Almuerzo todos los días con mis compañeros de trabajo. Es un grupo absolutamente increíble, divertido pero a la vez dedicado, cínico y a la vez optimista, vápido y a la vez profundo. Hablamos de todo y de nada, de nuestros sueños y comida, del futuro de educación y el significado del bendito selfie. Sé, a través de mi esposa, que todos los trabajos no son así, y cada día agradezco a Dios que me haya rodeado con semejante gente.
El otro día una compañera hablaba de sus conversaciones con su hermana y le pregunté con cuánta frecuencia le hablaba. Me dijo que hablaban con textos varias veces al día, intercambiando fotos de sus hijos y cosas así. Luego me dijo que así no eran las cosas con su hermano, que le era raro porque de jóvenes eran súper cercanos pero ahora no tanto. Me reí y le aseguré que era cosa de hombres nomás, que yo tampoco hablaba mucho con mi familia aunque nos considero cercanos.
--Ya, entiendo--me dijo,--y para mí no es para tanto, pero a mi mamá le vuelve loca. Nos anda llamando todo el tiempo a mí y a mi hermana preguntándonos por él, que si está bien, que por qué no le devuelve la llamada. Pobre de ella.
ºººººººººººº
Mi mamá falleció el 20 de enero del 1996, un sábado soleado pero frío, ese frío del coño que nos ha estado haciendo en estos días. Había ido a jugar ráquetbol con una amiga y se cayó durante la jornada. Mi hermanita de trece años la vio caerse. Le hicieron el CPR y toda esa vaina pero nada, después de una hora estuvo muerta. Nos llamó mi hermana toda histérica y fuimos todos al hospital y aún recuerdo la reacción de mi papá cuando el doctor le dijo que no le podían hacer más nada. Mi papá se inundó con llanto, cosa que jamás había visto en mi vida; yo no lloraba en aquel momento, aunque me quedaban muchas lágrimas en espera.
Las primeras horas eran nublinosas, los días seguidos surreales, las noches inaguantables. Vino todo el mundo para ayudar: primos, tíos, amigos, conocidos, hasta desconocidos. Pero era ausente la que más quería que estuviera.
ºººººººººº
Mis hermanos son muy buenos en acordar la fecha y conmemorarlo. Yo, no tanto, por alguna razón. Y no es que no me doy cuenta de que es el veinte de enero. Puedo escribirlo cien veces en la fecha y no lo pienso dos veces. Este año era hasta que mi hermana puso algo en el Facebook que no me acordé de lo que había acontecido hace 18 años. A recordarlo me pasó una reacción más de curiosidad que tristeza, cosa que me hizo cuestionar mi humanidad. No sé si señale que haya recuperado del completo de ese golpe tremendo que nos dio, o que me quede aún toda la vida, quizá más, para poder hacerlo.
ººººººººººº
Mi madre era la mejor de todas. Yo sé que todos lo dicen, y es verdad cada vez que uno lo dice. Para cada uno su mamá es la única persona que la entienda de verdad, que sepa bien todas sus debilidades y fuerzas, que sepa bien cuando está mintiendo y cuando no, cuando uno esté feliz y cuando sólo se esté poniendo una máscara para que al mundo no se le vea el dolor. Con la mamá no hay secretos, o si hay, tú sólo piensas que es secreto; por algún lado tu mamá se lo sabe. Cada vez que yo me ponía esa máscara, mi mamá me la quitaba en un dos-por-tres. Desde que se me fue mi mami, no dejo que nadie, ni mis hermanos, ni mi papá, ni mi esposa, ni siquiera yo mismo, me la quite.
ºººººººººº
Varias veces me he preguntado como hubiera sido mi vida los últimos 18 años si ella siguiera con nosotros. Ella no quería que fuera a la Universidad de Iowa y fui. Cuando le dije a mi papá a los diecinueve años que quería vivir en Sudamérica, mi papá ni parpadeó: me dijo que fuera; seguro que Mamá no hubiera estado tan cómoda con tal idea. Pensando en la conversación con mi amiga en el almuerzo, me doy cuenta que hablo con mi papá una vez al mes, dos como máximo, y así está bien; no creo que supieramos de qué hablar si fuera más. Eso ha sido lo bueno de mi papá: nunca trató de ser nuestra mamá, ni siquiera cuando no estaba Mamá: se lo sabía imposible.
ºººººººººº
18 años con ella y 18 sin ella. Vaya simetría, ¿no? Me vio mi mami crecer más alto, ir a la escuela, aprender a leer, jugar al béisbol (siempre las mamás son las mejores fans, ¿no?), sacar buenas notas, empezar a pensar en las chicas, manejar, conseguir mi primera novia, emborracharme por primera vez, empezar una barba. No me vio graduarme ni de la secundaria ni de la Universidad, afeitarme, bailar salsa, hablar español, dar clase, crecer más ancho, comprar una casa, casarme, hacerme padre.
Pero lo más destacado es que mientras sigo sin ella, me voy dando cuenta que mientras disfrute mi vida y la viva de la mejor manera que pueda, no la vivo como podría si ella hubiera seguido con nosotros unos años, unos meses, unos días más. Porque la cosa es que tengo dieciocho años sin que me quite esta bendita máscara y no veo la manera que lo haga hasta que un día esté, de nuevo, a su lado, en sus brazos, en su vientre.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Thursday, January 2, 2014
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! (With a twist of flowery red liquid)
For the last several years, New Years has been the biggest holiday of the year in our home, even eclipsing the absolute deluge of presents that Santa (i.e. Sonia) provides for us a week earlier on Christmas morning. The 838 Dover Party was originally born of selfish reasons: the first
year we had a child, Sonia and I still wanted to party on New Years Eve,
but knew it would be VERY difficult to find a babysitter. So, we
decided to invite some friends over, party, and also be able to watch
our child. Over the years, they have celebrated as much as us we do;
when Niko was three or four, we introduced a pinata into the routine and
it has been a staple over since.Part of this is due to the Peruvian way of celebrating this holiday; in Latin America (or at least Venezuela and Peru, where I have spent time), New Years is by far the most family oriented and sacred holiday of the year. You get very dressed up, prepare a banquet, and at twelve fireworks go off around the city. Over the years, myself and my gringo friends have contributed to make the party at 838 Dover Street a wonderful conglomeration of Latino and Gringo, a wonderful celebration of the year that was, and the year that will be.
Minus the fireworks, of course. It's WAY too fucking cold to stand around watching fireworks in January in Iowa.
*****
The last year, however, has been a little challenging for us. Now, I must emphasize that at no point none of our basic needs were ever in question: the house was paid for, we had health insurance, and food was on the table. For that, I am very grateful; Lord knows there are plenty who cannot count on these most basic needs. That being said, however, we had our downs: I was unemployed during the summer and Sonia during October and November. Our car was stolen (twice!). To top off the year, our Jeep decided it needed $1500 worth of repairs. Again, not anything life threatening, but we definitely had to be very careful (and creative) with our money during the year. Also, in October, Sonia had a much needed hip replacement done. The surgery was a blessing from God and I am SO thankful we were able to do it; but it certainly turned the house upside down for a few months.
All this being said, by the end of December, we. were. just. worn. out.
*****
In this context, Sonia and I lay in bed on the evening of December 25, very happy that our kids had a joyous Christmas (mostly due to Sonia) and that my sister, her husband, and daughter had been able to visit for a day on their way back to Atlanta. We then began to discuss the upcoming New Years.
"Do you want to do the party like we always do?" Sonia asked.
This question I had to answer carefully. I know how important New Years is to her.
"Whatever you want," I said. Can't go wrong there!
"Maybe we should take it easy," she said.
Yes! "Maybe we should," I agreed.
"No party?" she said.
"No party," I agreed. "How about we just get some pizza, sit around, and watch the ball drop?"
"Okay."
"Are you sure that's okay with you?" I asked. "I mean, really, just do nothing?"
"Just for this year," she said, "I think it's the best."
"Okay," I said, "we'll take it easy for this year. Nothing."
"Nothing," she agreed.
*****
I was to find out my wife and I have very different mental images of "Nothing".
*****
December 26. It started out innocently enough. "My sister and her family are coming over for New Years. Probably my dad, too."
"No problem."
"And maybe you should call Wiley. And Fernando. And Victoria. And Jialing. And your aunt [hereafter, "the people"]."
"Why?"
"For New Years."
"I thought we weren't doing anything."
"We're not. But in case they want to come over."
*****
December 28. "Mi amor, did you call the people yet?"
"No. I thought we weren't doing anything."
"Well, that doesn't mean we can't have people over."
That's exactly what it means, I think. "Well, I'll see."
"Well, you should call them. Otherwise they may make other plans."
Isn't that kind of the point?
*****
December 29. "Mi amor, did you call the people yet?"
"No."
"Well, you need to do that. Also, I need to go the mall."
"Why?"
"We all need new clothes. We don't want the start the New Years with old clothes."
"Seriously? I thought we weren't doing anything."
"Well, no. But we gotta have new clothes on. It's bad luck if you don't."
*****
December 30. "Mi amor, are you going to Hy-Vee?"
"Yes."
"Okay, we need white rice, a ham and cheese tray, a vegetable tray, shrimp, shrimp sauce, regular champagne, non-alcoholic champagne, juice boxes for kids. Maybe a couple frozen pizzas we can cut up."
That's a lot of shit. "Why?"
"For New Years."
"But I thought we weren't doing anything."
"We're not. But we need stuff for the guests."
"What guests?"
"Well, you know, my family. And the people you called. How many are coming over?"
"I haven't called anyone."
"WHAT! New Years is tomorrow!!"
"I know, but...you know...we said we weren't doing anything."
"We're not. But that doesn't mean we should just sit around by ourselves doing nothing."
*****
December 31. White rice has been thrown all the corners of the house. My pants pockets have been stuffed with money, so that the New Year may bring us financial prosperity. We have the suitcases upstairs: I have been told that at twelve we must run around with them so that we may travel in 2014. There are trays of food on the kitchen table, and several cups, each with 12 grapes, representing the twelve months of the New Year. I asked how, at midnight, we were supposed to simultaneously run with suitcases, stuff our mouths with grapes, drink champagne, and kiss our significant other (the American tradition)?
"You always worry about the minor stuff," I was told.
Right now I find myself naked in the bathtub, my wife with a pitcher of lukewarm red liquid. She has boiled water and then inserted several different flower petals; if we bathe ourselves in this mixture, it will bring us good fortune for the year to come. For a moment, I think back to 2000, the last time I had a New Years before I knew of the myriad of traditions found across the world for this special day (all of which, by some crazy twist of fate, the Peruvians seem to follow!!). Back then, all I knew of New Years was that you had a few drinks (some more than others), and then at midnight, you kissed someone (ideally, a significant other, or failing that, at least an acquaintance; but hey, in a pinch, a total stranger works as well). We Americans are so vapid!! What I wouldn't give right now to go back to that!!!
The red liquid crashes over me. Sonia hands me a towel.
"Okay, get dressed. The people will be here soon."
I dry off and begin dressing. Sonia calls in from the bathroom.
"Mi amor, isn't this nice? Just doing nothing for New Years?"
I wipe off some red liquid from my feet. "Yes, baby. Doing nothing is wonderful."
*****
Happy New Year to all of you!!! May 2014 bring you all your hopes and dreams!!!
Failing that, I'm sure Sonia can whip up some flowery red liquid for you....
Beijinhos, minha gente!!!
Minus the fireworks, of course. It's WAY too fucking cold to stand around watching fireworks in January in Iowa.
*****
The last year, however, has been a little challenging for us. Now, I must emphasize that at no point none of our basic needs were ever in question: the house was paid for, we had health insurance, and food was on the table. For that, I am very grateful; Lord knows there are plenty who cannot count on these most basic needs. That being said, however, we had our downs: I was unemployed during the summer and Sonia during October and November. Our car was stolen (twice!). To top off the year, our Jeep decided it needed $1500 worth of repairs. Again, not anything life threatening, but we definitely had to be very careful (and creative) with our money during the year. Also, in October, Sonia had a much needed hip replacement done. The surgery was a blessing from God and I am SO thankful we were able to do it; but it certainly turned the house upside down for a few months.
All this being said, by the end of December, we. were. just. worn. out.
*****
In this context, Sonia and I lay in bed on the evening of December 25, very happy that our kids had a joyous Christmas (mostly due to Sonia) and that my sister, her husband, and daughter had been able to visit for a day on their way back to Atlanta. We then began to discuss the upcoming New Years.
"Do you want to do the party like we always do?" Sonia asked.
This question I had to answer carefully. I know how important New Years is to her.
"Whatever you want," I said. Can't go wrong there!
"Maybe we should take it easy," she said.
Yes! "Maybe we should," I agreed.
"No party?" she said.
"No party," I agreed. "How about we just get some pizza, sit around, and watch the ball drop?"
"Okay."
"Are you sure that's okay with you?" I asked. "I mean, really, just do nothing?"
"Just for this year," she said, "I think it's the best."
"Okay," I said, "we'll take it easy for this year. Nothing."
"Nothing," she agreed.
*****
I was to find out my wife and I have very different mental images of "Nothing".
*****
December 26. It started out innocently enough. "My sister and her family are coming over for New Years. Probably my dad, too."
"No problem."
"And maybe you should call Wiley. And Fernando. And Victoria. And Jialing. And your aunt [hereafter, "the people"]."
"Why?"
"For New Years."
"I thought we weren't doing anything."
"We're not. But in case they want to come over."
*****
December 28. "Mi amor, did you call the people yet?"
"No. I thought we weren't doing anything."
"Well, that doesn't mean we can't have people over."
That's exactly what it means, I think. "Well, I'll see."
"Well, you should call them. Otherwise they may make other plans."
Isn't that kind of the point?
*****
December 29. "Mi amor, did you call the people yet?"
"No."
"Well, you need to do that. Also, I need to go the mall."
"Why?"
"We all need new clothes. We don't want the start the New Years with old clothes."
"Seriously? I thought we weren't doing anything."
"Well, no. But we gotta have new clothes on. It's bad luck if you don't."
*****
December 30. "Mi amor, are you going to Hy-Vee?"
"Yes."
"Okay, we need white rice, a ham and cheese tray, a vegetable tray, shrimp, shrimp sauce, regular champagne, non-alcoholic champagne, juice boxes for kids. Maybe a couple frozen pizzas we can cut up."
That's a lot of shit. "Why?"
"For New Years."
"But I thought we weren't doing anything."
"We're not. But we need stuff for the guests."
"What guests?"
"Well, you know, my family. And the people you called. How many are coming over?"
"I haven't called anyone."
"WHAT! New Years is tomorrow!!"
"I know, but...you know...we said we weren't doing anything."
"We're not. But that doesn't mean we should just sit around by ourselves doing nothing."
*****
December 31. White rice has been thrown all the corners of the house. My pants pockets have been stuffed with money, so that the New Year may bring us financial prosperity. We have the suitcases upstairs: I have been told that at twelve we must run around with them so that we may travel in 2014. There are trays of food on the kitchen table, and several cups, each with 12 grapes, representing the twelve months of the New Year. I asked how, at midnight, we were supposed to simultaneously run with suitcases, stuff our mouths with grapes, drink champagne, and kiss our significant other (the American tradition)?
"You always worry about the minor stuff," I was told.
Right now I find myself naked in the bathtub, my wife with a pitcher of lukewarm red liquid. She has boiled water and then inserted several different flower petals; if we bathe ourselves in this mixture, it will bring us good fortune for the year to come. For a moment, I think back to 2000, the last time I had a New Years before I knew of the myriad of traditions found across the world for this special day (all of which, by some crazy twist of fate, the Peruvians seem to follow!!). Back then, all I knew of New Years was that you had a few drinks (some more than others), and then at midnight, you kissed someone (ideally, a significant other, or failing that, at least an acquaintance; but hey, in a pinch, a total stranger works as well). We Americans are so vapid!! What I wouldn't give right now to go back to that!!!
The red liquid crashes over me. Sonia hands me a towel.
"Okay, get dressed. The people will be here soon."
I dry off and begin dressing. Sonia calls in from the bathroom.
"Mi amor, isn't this nice? Just doing nothing for New Years?"
I wipe off some red liquid from my feet. "Yes, baby. Doing nothing is wonderful."
*****
Happy New Year to all of you!!! May 2014 bring you all your hopes and dreams!!!
Failing that, I'm sure Sonia can whip up some flowery red liquid for you....
Beijinhos, minha gente!!!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)