I
Mamá Helena no despertó temprano como cada mañana para hacer su ritual de todos los días. Le gustaba despertar a las 6 de la mañana, encender la radio y sentarse en su mecedora mientras se escuchaba en el fondo el cantar de los gallos. Yo despertaba inevitablemente aunque queriendo quedarme en la cama cinco minutos más. Sin embargo, esa mañana fui yo quién despertó temprano, el aroma de su café no me llevó a la cocina como todos los días. Me acerqué a su cuarto, reposaba en su cama entre dormida y despierta, se le veía bastante agotada. A simple vista se notaba que no pudo dormir bien. Pero ella no era de decir las cosas, le agradaba sentirse todavía fuerte a pesar de su edad. -¿Me harías el honor de aprobar mi café? -Pregunté mientras le tocaba la puerta.
– Todo depende de si esta vez es de verdad café o el mismo remedio raro de ayer. -Respondió mientras se sentaba para conversar conmigo como todas las mañanas. Me aseguré de darle sus medicamentos y ella intentaba disimular sus incontenibles ganas de toser.
– Tienes varios días sin salir de casa, te vas a enfermar de aburrimiento. Por lo menos sal a tomar un poco de sol. – Me dijo en un tono de alguien que desea algunos minutos de soledad. Guardé silencio, mientras meditaba si era correcto dejarla sola por un rato para que pudiera descansar. Sonreí, seguimos conversando y tan rápido pasó el día que sin darnos cuenta ya nos estábamos dando las buenas noches. Yo me acosté con la ilusión de que al despertar, la vería caminando por toda la casa, abriendo las ventanas y recibiendo el sol como cada mañana, pero nuevamente, fui yo quién despertó primero.
Me acerqué a su cuarto, toqué su puerta y me miró intentando ocultar su fatiga y pocas ganas de hablar. Entré al cuarto y revisé su temperatura. – ¿Adivina quién no tiene fiebre ya? –Le dije mientras su rostro se iluminaba nuevamente. Me pidió que la ayudara a levantarse de la cama a su mecedora. Yo permanecí en la computadora mientras ella vagaba en sus pensamientos, quizá por alguna sabana, soñando con el atardecer en tierras llanas. Aquellas tierras a las que tanto deseaba volver. De pronto se levantó de la silla con ayuda de su bastón y caminó por toda la casa. Aunque todavía su rostro se encontraba pálido y su pecho se escuchaba contusionado por la tos, ella quería sacar la fuerza de su espíritu de mujer que crece del campo y trabaja la tierra. Mujer que tiene la piel para aguantar horas de sol en tierra árida. Mujer que no se rinde a ningún malestar.
-Llegó el café. -Me dijo alegremente mientras colocaba en la mesa una taza de café y galletas. La Felicidad más honesta la encuentras en pequeños fragmentos del día tan simples, pero a la vez tan fortuitos, como una taza de café.
-Me invitaron a una función de teatro hoy en la tarde, estoy considerando ir a verla. -Le comenté mientras tomaba sorbo de aquella taza.
-Se te va a ir la vida de tanto pensar, mejor ve a revisar que te vas a poner.
-¿Estarás bien?
-La duda ofende.
II
-Gracias por invitarme a la obra, me conmovió mucho el argumento, mamá Helena ha estado enferma estos días y sentí empatía con el protagonista de la historia. -Le comentaba a mi amiga Natalia mientras salíamos de la función.
-Es duro perder a un ser querido y no haber podido despedirte de esa persona por prolongar una molestia. A mí también me abrazó en los recuerdos aquella despedida. - Me respondía Natalia.
-Mamá Helena siempre ha querido mantenerse fuerte aunque ya esté mayor porque siente miedo a dejarme sola. A pesar de que toda mi vida me ha dicho que debo estar preparada para cuando ella no esté porque lo único que me va a quedar es todo lo que puede enseñarme mientras esté con vida. Sin embargo, veo muy lejos el día en el que imagine mi vida sin ella.
-Nunca se está preparado para las despedidas, simplemente pasa. Hay ausencias que son necesarias y otras con las que únicamente aprendes a convivir. Mamá Helena todavía está fuerte, solo que su cuerpo tarda un poco más en mejorar porque tampoco tiene 5 años. No te angusties, ya verás cómo las cosas mejoran.
Contemplaba la noche mientras caminaba a mi casa. Como si me arropara con su manto constelar. Quería llegar a casa y estar con ella. Reflexionaba sobre aquella obra. Me pareció muy triste que el hijo no pudiera despedirse de su madre pese a que esta le buscó infinidad de veces para aliviar las cosas con él. Ella nunca le reprochó por sus decisiones, sin embargo el rencor que guardaba él fue más fuerte que el amor por su madre. Los conflictos familiares son tan complejos como la existencia misma. Es cierto que mamá Helena no es eterna, pero mi relación con ella sí. No podría perdonarme no despedirme de ella. Seguía preocupada por su enfermedad, pero Natalia tenía razón, mamá blanca era una mujer fuerte.
Cuando llegué a la casa, pude sentir su tranquilidad por mi presencia. Esperaba encontrarme con la misma que dejé antes de salir, pero para mi pesar, su voz se escuchaba tan débil como su pecho completamente invadido por la tos. Le dije a mi hermano David que necesitábamos llevar a mamá Helena para emergencias. El salió corriendo a buscar un carro que pudiera auxiliarnos y yo ayudaba a mamá Helena a sentarse para que pudiera respirar mejor mientras la tos activaba cualquier alarma de emergencia posible.
La tristeza, al igual que la felicidad, la encuentras en pequeños fragmentos tan simples como el último aliento. La vida es tan frágil como una taza de porcelana. En mis brazos pude sentir como su corazón paró de repente, supe que ese sería nuestro último abrazo. Mamá Helena, me esperaba esa noche para despedirse.
Adios
Manos de algodón
Labios de pincel
Ojos de alelí.
ENGLISH
I
Mama Helena did not wake up early as she did every morning to do her daily ritual. She liked to wake up at 6 a.m., turn on the radio and sit in her rocking chair while the roosters crowed in the background. I would inevitably wake up even though I wanted to stay in bed for five more minutes. However, that morning I was the one who woke up early, the aroma of her coffee did not bring me to the kitchen as it did every day. I approached her room, she was resting on her bed between asleep and awake, she looked quite exhausted. At first glance I could tell she hadn't slept well. But she was not one to say things, she was pleased to feel she was still strong despite her age. - Would you do me the honor of approving my coffee? -I asked as I knocked on the door.
-It all depends on whether this time it's real coffee or the same weird remedy as yesterday. -She replied as she sat down to chat with me as she did every morning. I made sure to give her her medication and she tried to hide her uncontrollable urge to cough.
-You have several days without leaving the house, you're going to get sick of boredom. At least go out and get some sun. - She told me in the tone of someone who wants a few minutes of solitude. I kept silent, while I pondered whether it was right to leave her alone for a while so she could rest. I smiled, we continued talking and the day went by so fast that before we knew it, we were already saying good night to each other. I went to bed with the illusion that when I woke up, I would see her walking around the house, opening the windows and receiving the sun like every morning, but again, it was me who woke up first.
I approached her room, knocked on her door and she looked at me trying to hide her fatigue and unwillingness to talk. I went into the room and checked his temperature. - Guess who doesn't have a fever already? -I said as her face lit up again. She asked me to help her out of bed and into her rocking chair. I stayed at the computer while she wandered in her thoughts, perhaps on some savannah, dreaming of the sunset on the plains. Those lands she wanted so much to return to. Suddenly she got up from her chair with the help of her cane and walked around the house. Although her face was still pale and her chest sounded bruised from coughing, she wanted to bring out the strength of her spirit as a woman who grows from the fields and works the land. A woman who has the skin to endure hours of sun in arid land. A woman who does not give in to any discomfort.
-The coffee has arrived. -He said cheerfully as he placed a cup of coffee and cookies on the table. The most honest happiness is found in small fragments of the day as simple, but at the same time as fortuitous, as a cup of coffee.
-I was invited to a theater performance this afternoon, I'm considering going to see it. -I commented as I took a sip from that cup.
-You're going to lose your life thinking so much, you'd better go check what you're going to wear.
-Will you be ok?
-Doubt offends.
II
-Thank you for inviting me to the play, I was very moved by the plot, mom Helena has been sick these days and I felt empathy with the protagonist of the story. -I commented to my friend Natalia as we were leaving the show.
-It is hard to lose a loved one and not have been able to say goodbye to that person because of a prolonged discomfort. That farewell also embraced me in my memories. - Natalia answered me.
-Mom Helena has always wanted to stay strong even though she is older because she is afraid to leave me alone. Even though all my life she has told me that I should be prepared for when she is gone because the only thing I will have left is everything she can teach me while she is still alive. However, I see the day far away when I can imagine my life without her.
-You are never prepared for goodbyes, it just happens. There are absences that are necessary and others that you just learn to live with. Mama Helena is still strong, it just takes her body a little longer to get better because she is not 5 years old either. Don't be anxious, you will see how things will get better.
I contemplated the night as I walked home. As if it wrapped me in its constellar mantle. I wanted to get home and be with her. I reflected on that play. I found it very sad that the son could not say goodbye to his mother even though she sought him out countless times to ease things with him. She never reproached him for his decisions, but his resentment was stronger than his love for his mother. Family conflicts are as complex as existence itself. It is true that Mama Helena is not eternal, but my relationship with her is. I could not forgive myself for not saying goodbye to her. I was still worried about her illness, but Natalia was right, Mama Blanca was a strong woman.
When I arrived at the house, I could feel her reassurance of my presence. I expected to meet the same one I left before I left, but to my chagrin, her voice sounded as weak as her chest completely overrun with coughing. I told my brother David that we needed to take Mom Helena for emergencies. He ran off to find a car that could help us and I helped Mom Helena sit up so she could breathe better while the coughing set off any possible emergency alarms.
Sadness, like happiness, is found in small fragments as simple as the last breath. Life is as fragile as a porcelain cup. In my arms, I could feel her heart suddenly stop, I knew that would be our last embrace. Mama Helena, she was waiting for me that night to say goodbye.
Goodbye
Cotton hands
Lips of brush
Eyes of honeydew.
¡GRACIAS POR TU LECTURA!
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