Hola Hive. Esta historia que les contaré es de uno de los momentos mas triste de mi vida. Desde muy pequeña, para que mi mamá trabajara, me crió una tía mía a la cual le decía Mami. Ella siempre me malcrío, me mimó mucho, todos los días ella me daba la leche con cuchara como si fuera una niña chiquita antes de ir a la escuela y siempre estaba conmigo. Ella padecía de una artritis que les deformó las manos pero eso nunca le impidió nada. Yo siempre la agarraba cuando íbamos por la calle porque temía que se cayera. Ella era mi amiga ,mi confidente, me daba cariño y si yo estaba enferma ahí siempre a mi lado. Yo siendo joven cuando tuve mis hijos no dejo de estar ahí en se momento del parto y después con mis hijos.
Lamentablemente un buen día se enferma de los pulmones imposibilitándole dormir en la cama, solo en sillón. Dicha enfermedad provocaba una falta de aire que se fue agravando con el tiempo y provocó su fallecimiento.
Ese 9 de octubre de 1997 a las diez de la noche, sale el médico y me dice que falleció. Sentí que me moría, se me unió el cielo y la tierra, siempre siendo niña dije cuando mi mami se me muera quería morirme yo también.
A pesar de todo, la vida te da por quien luchar y cuando ella muere, tenía a mis hijos siendo el principal impulso que permitió afrontar esta herida en mi corazón. Ya han pasado unos cuantos años pero sigue siendo el día mas triste de mi vida ,me hace mucha falta, y la extraño mucho.
English Version
Hello Hive. This story that I will tell you is from one of the saddest moments of my life. From a very young age, so that my mother could work, I was raised by an aunt of mine whom I called Mami. She always spoiled me, pampered me a lot, every day she gave me milk with a spoon as if I were a little girl before going to school and she was always with me. She suffered from arthritis that deformed her hands but that never stopped her from doing anything. I always grabbed her when we went down the street because I was afraid she would fall. She was my friend, my confidant, she gave me love and if I was sick, she was always there by my side. When I was young when I had my children I did not stop being there at the time of delivery and later with my children.
Unfortunately, one fine day he got sick with his lungs, making it impossible for him to sleep in bed, only in an armchair. This disease caused a shortness of breath that worsened over time and caused his death.
That October 9, 1997 at ten o'clock at night, the doctor comes out and tells me that he died. I felt that I was dying, heaven and earth joined me, always being a girl I said when my mom died I wanted to die too.
In spite of everything, life gives you someone to fight for and when she dies, my children were the main impulse that allowed me to face this wound in my heart. It's been a few years but it's still the saddest day of my life, I miss her a lot, and I miss her a lot.
Ella siempre te va a estar cuidando y me dejo en mi su retrato.
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