...
Quiero recorrerte con mi boca abierta y mis brazos cerrados rodeándote. Pegar mis labios a tu piel hasta que se deslicen por tus hombros blancos.
Quiero sentir tu pelo en mi piel, cómo me acaricia. Tu aliento tibio en mi cuello. Tu pulso, que vibra. Tus manos como el sol sobre mi espalda.
Quiero sentir lo suave, lo duro, lo liso. Absorberte con cinco sentidos. Ser lluvia y bajar del cielo mojada cuando pase la tormenta.
"Now I understand" said she, with the rarest grin illuminating her precious face. A face from last century, framed with short white curls, an obviously ancient yet pleasant composition that revealed, more than her years, her extraordinary wisdom.
Nobody knew what she could understand. And nobody seemed to care. It was mother's day and we were all celebrating.
"Heaven exists. When it is my time, I don't want to go to a hospital and be on machines, extending my agony. I don't want you to worry about me. I don't want you to mourn: I am going on a beautiful trip. Just let me go. Anyway, it will not be the first time I die."
My grandmother had been clinically dead once. She went into cardiac arrest. One cold morning, my mother found her unconscious laying on her bed. She was rushed to the hospital and when she was finally able to speak again, she told us this marvelous story about the Golden City. She remembered being there, resting on clouds hearing angelic choirs. She said she did not get to meet God, for it was not her time yet. "It is beautiful. I want you to remember that place exists and now I am not scared of dying." But I was scared of her dying.
She would speak about death casually, like planning for a wedding, a graduation, or any other event. So much so that it made me sick to my stomach to listen; I felt a black hole expanding from my stomach with nausea and a paralized throat that made it difficult for me to swallow my own saliva. However, I just smiled through it, not saying anything or even hinting at any of these feelings, I went on listening with attentive eyes and a smile and nodded pretending to agree. "Life is too precious. Take care of living each day. Don't let my absence stop you".
One day she told me that she had dreamed of her parents. And her brother, who was lost at sea at the age of 44. There were her dogs: "el Silencio", "la Osa" and "el Rick". I did not think about that family reunion or its implications. She was my family and she was with me right in that moment and that is how I wanted things to stay. I held her warm hand, refusing to acknowledge that her soul was slowly entering a different realm.
Then, the month of May was ending. We were busy planning for potential ways to celebrate her upcoming birthday, while trying hard to ignore the fact that she was preparing to die. "Nearly all of my generation has passed away. One must be really good to be the last one to leave the party. I am done with my party here. Now they are all waiting for me on the other side".
There was no more denying one day at the beginning of June. She had been using the oxygen and not eating or drinking for two days in a row . Her care givers told us she was drifting in and out of consciousness. Of course she did not want to burden us with her death. She arranged things like she was going to travel: she packed her stuff and made postcards for each one. We went to visit her one last time.
She was so happy to see us: her family reunited by the dock smiling for her and waving goodbye while she swiftly sailed away. I held her hand. It was not warm anymore.
She turned her face away from us and fell asleep instantly. She seemed to fall quickly into a restless dream. She was panting and moving her feet, like she was walking. I massaged her feet. We were there, in awe and completely silent.
Then she woke up momentarily and said she was thirsty. We asked if she would like a sip of water: "No", she said, "I want tequila. Go to Rigo, at 'La Cantina', and have him pour us some drinks".
My sister rushed to Rigo's bar to get grandma her drink. She came back within minutes, all flushed and short of breath from the run, with some piña colada in a cocktail shaker. We helped grandma sit up in her bed and bring the liquid to her lips. She tried to sip, but could barely "kiss" the drink. She was not able to keep her eyes open. Still, she said it tasted good, or at least that is what I understood. She smiled and gently tried to lift an invisible cup with her pale, cold hand, as if making a toast.
The afternoon was turning into night. The nurse came by and kindly asked us to leave: "Ms. María Luisa made plans in advance; she said you cannot stay caring for her at night. She wants you to go home and rest".
The black hole that had strated in my abdomen a few weeks ago had completely taken over. We said goodbye and parted our ways and as soon as we were out of the nursing home, the overwhelming blackness made my breath heavy and my eyes teary. My chest felt tight and my head was pounding. Halfway home, we had to pull over as I had to vomit. I was in a black tunnel and I could not see its end.
When we were arriving home, all of our lights were off, as they were when we left in the morning. Curiously, the light in our porch turned on. As the the door opened , I felt a weight was lifting off from my chest and I could breath again. The blackness went away, giving way to a faint, luminous yellow and I was not feeling fear or sadness anymore. I was almost at peace.
Then, the call came in: "She has passed away".
It is life that we call beautiful. But there is also beauty in death. Thank you. Now rest in peace.
Te esperaré aquí, entre las flores y las velas, entre las luces los y cantos. Te esperaré sentada, hasta que el polvo se disipe y las lluvias se vayan, limpiando la tristeza de las calles a su paso.
Te esperaré en la casa que huele a caña, que huele a atole, que huele a ti; y no habrá más tierra en mi garganta, ni lágrimas que nublen mis ojos. Te esperaré aquí, adonde teníamos que vernos antes, en otra tarde, en otro tiempo.
Te esperaré bajo las nubes y el papel picado; entre el caramelo, el chocolate y el café. Te esperaré aquí, hasta que las luces de neón se apaguen y se prendan los cirios. Entre los rezos de los ancianos y las abuelas y las miradas cristalinas de los niños. Y vendrás sin miedos y ya no habrá más gritos.
Y pondré un círculo de sal que proteja tu alma y pondré un vaso de agua que refresque tus sueños; hasta que vuelvas tú, hasta que vaya yo, hasta que volvamos a estar juntos.
Te esperaré porque sé que volverás, así como todos han vuelto.
Te esperaré aquí, entre las flores y las velas. Entre las luces y los cantos…
Paola Klug
My grandmother once gave me a tip:
In difficult times, move forward in small steps.
Do what you have to do, but little by little.
Don’t think about the future
or what may happen tomorrow.
Wash the dishes.
Remove the dust.
Write a letter.
Make a soup.
You see?
Onward, step by step.
Take a step and stop.
Rest a little.
Praise yourself.
Take another step.
And then another.
You won’t notice, but your steps will add up more and more.
And the time will come when you can think about the future without crying.
Author: Elena Mikhalkova
As far as as he could remember, there hadn´t been a night as dark. Everything was complete silence. And the nauseating smell of blood, drying in the warm weather, rose from across the office floor, filling the room with a distinctive stench. Augie stayed still in his place behind the patient’s bed, wondering what had happened, to set this day so far apart from the rest.
Routine was always the same: the doctor came in at about eight every morning and greeted Augie with a smile and a quick hand gesture. Then, the nice lady came in and did the cleaning. Then, the patients. An endless parade of faces, voices, smells… occupied the doctor´s office every day. But not today. This day had been abnormally quiet.
What happened? The skeleton could not understand. For the first time, its tiny rubber bones ached mysteriously -a feeling he had never experienced before-. He never reckoned his shallow ribcage, but today it seemed so empty; as his entire existence. Almost four years in this world, and not a single reason for being. Always standing still in the same place. And this day seemed so tragic. Not because of the blood on the floor, or the absence of the doctor, but because of the chaos it brought along.
Time crept by so slowly. The morning came with faint light in beautiful hues of violet, pink and orange, all mixed with gray. And the silence… it was too much to bear. “Where did I go wrong?” The question echoed in Augie's empty skull, as he thought he perceived these words in a low whisper beside him. Augie turned slightly his head to the left, trying to see the person whose voice he seemed to recognize:
“Doctor!” The doctor responded with his regular greeting, only this time, he was genuinely surprised that someone could see him –even if that someone was a rubber skeleton model. Who felt lonely. Sad. Neglected.
-That blood, came from me?
The “bony” white little head jolted up and down in response. Augie is actually PVC and only 4ft. tall, but he identifies as an anatomically correct, beautiful human skeleton.
So... at last an answer. It was bleak and bleary, but nevertheless, an answer. And the memories began to flash back, from that ill-fated day:
-Arlena called me… I came to see her in the house we had shared. She said she wanted me back; I asked her to find a place of her own... we had breakfast together. I can´t really tell why, since I was supposed to go with my sister and niece that morning. However, I stayed in and ate with her. Then, she left for work; but I told her I would linger, in order to look for some books and x –rays I was needing to finish my paper. I was going through folders and documents in my old desk, when my stomach felt funny; a piercing pain radiated from my left side. I believed it was only bad digestion –funny how wrong my self-diagnose was. Then I decided to go to my office. I figured that I could take some remedy and lay down for a while… but soon after crossing the door, I collapsed. The pain went sharper. I gasped hopelessly for air. Blood gushed from my mouth and nose… And then: Darkness. Did I die?
Augie had been listening with attention; the doctor´s words gave some sort of explanation, somehow soothing the loneliness and despair, making things slightly clearer for both of them.
The maid came in, but not as early as usual. She had a latch with red carnations and a white rose, which she left on the doctor´s desk. She wasn´t wearing her uniform. She made the sign of the cross, as she began spraying watered chlorine to wipe off the blood with shaky hands and dripping eyes .
-I guess death is too confusing, too definite to make any sense at all... I should be alive! There are so many things I have to do… I am not ready for this... But, Augie: I´m afraid I´m dead.
Listen to Happiness.m4a by Raine (Johana Denisse) on #SoundCloud https://soundcloud.app.goo.gl/CWjY6
Life is not a happy ending
She is the strongest soul I've ever met
And even she cries sometimes.
It is never easy.
Dying a little occasionally is part of life.
It is never easy.
Only when I am with my cat.
Otherwise, few things seem worth my while.
But then I am here
In the flesh
Let me at least enjoy this mortal form while it lasts
I can feel the warm sun on my back.
Taste good food, good drinks, a nice smoke.
An exquisite bed to blow our mind.
I want to live the moment.
Also with her, the driving practice,
Evenings at the mall.
I do not know if Happiness exists.
But I have known a few happy times.
I cook your meal, buy you a shirt,
Take care of the details. I like to belive I do good by you.
So, at least while I am busy, my life has a purpose. That is why I like to care for you.
While we keep up the search, however meaningless,
For that unicorn called "happiness".
Today I saw this lovely doctor
She seemed forty-something and she was very sweet. She had a very traditional look, so much so that I was surprised when her patient complimented her on a very nice tattoo she had on her arm.
She said it was her mother's day present and it was very painful.
I just thought it was so sweet that she accepted to get a tattoo just because it was a present from her child.
I wonder what it was. I did not get to see it.
After this encounter, I might consider to get those mom + daughter tattoos my baby was suggesting a couple of years back.
