Con mi abuelo compartí los mejores años de mi vida. Me extasiaba escuchar sus cuentos sobre experiencias sobrenaturales. La mejor hora para contarlos, era a las 10:00 pm, cuando no había luz. Como a los 5 años de edad, mi mamá me llevó a una terapista porque insistía en que veía algunas personas o cosas, en mi habitación. Recuerdo a 2 niños, sentados en el escritorio de mi litera, leyendo un libro. En otras ocasiones, veía a una especie de niña muy pequeña con unas alas muy grandes, que subía y bajaba en un rincón. A veces, me sorprendía ver algo parecido a un verdugo, con un traje negro y ojos rojos cuando me mecía en la hamaca de la terraza. Así, fue trascurriendo mi niñez. Yo le contaba a mi abuelo sobre esas experiencias y él se quedaba ensimismado escuchando cada historia. Y volvía a repetir sus famosos cuentos como una forma de decirme, yo te creo. Mi abuelo era mi personaje favorito dentro de mi familia y nunca pensé, a pesar de sus 80 años, que pronto lo perdería. A pesar, de que últimamente su mirada estaba perdida en la lejanía. Ya no me miraba igual. Sentía su miedo.
I shared the best years of my life with my grandfather. I was ecstatic to hear his stories about supernatural experiences. The best time to tell them was at 10:00 pm, when there was no light. When I was about 5 years old, my mom took me to a therapist because she insisted that I saw some people or things in my room. I remember 2 boys, sitting at the desk on my bunk bed, reading a book. At other times, I would see some kind of very small girl with very large wings, going up and down in a corner. Sometimes, I was surprised to see something like an executioner, with a black suit and red eyes when I was rocking in the hammock on the terrace. That's how my childhood went. I would tell my grandfather about those experiences and he would remain engrossed listening to each story. And he would repeat his famous tales as a way of telling me, I believe you. My grandfather was my favorite character in my family and I never thought, despite his 80 years, that I would soon lose him. Even though, lately, his gaze was lost in the distance. He no longer looked at me the same way. I felt his fear.
Pixabay debowscyfoto
A medianos de junio del 2021, cayó con COVID, tomaba sus medicamentos y nunca se quejaba. Sin embargo, en uno de sus chequeos médicos habituales, se percataron de que sus pulmones no estaban saturando bien. Apenas llegaba a un 60% y entonces decidieron hospitalizarlo para colocarle oxígeno. Unos 15 días después mi mamá me dijo que había entrado en coma. Esa misma noche, lo vi entrar a mi habitación, se sentó a un lado de la cama y me percate de su miedo interior. Pensé que era solo un sueño, así que me arrope y me di la vuelta.
In mid-june 2021, he came down with COVID, took his medications and never complained. However, at one of his regular medical checkups, they noticed that his lungs were not saturating well. He was barely at 60% and so they decided to hospitalize him to put him on oxygen. About 15 days later my mom told me that he had slipped into a coma. That same night, I saw him come into my room, he sat on the side of the bed and I realized his inner fear. I thought it was just a dream, so I tucked myself in and turned over.
En esos últimos días, todo era raro. Lo veía asomarse por la puerta de mi habitación, como era típico en él o sentado en la mesa del comedor, cabizbajo. Me embargaba la tristeza y desesperanza de mi mamá. Yo no le decía que lo estaba viendo en la casa, porque quizás, eso la pondría más triste. Fueron muchas las oraciones por él, sobre todo de mi abuela. Tres rosarios diarios y peticiones al altar de la casa. Al amanecer, del sábado 3 de julio del 2021, me levanté muy temprano y le pregunté a mami por abuelo, me dijo que seguía igual. Pero, al preguntarme por qué de mi angustia a esa hora, le dije: abuelo me acaba de decir, “háblenme, díganme que estoy bien”. Mami, salió corriendo al hospital y, al llegar, le dijo que se podía marchar, porque todo estaría bien. A las 10:30 am, dio su último suspiro. En cada oración por su partida, lo veía mirando al horizonte, como si poco a poco, aceptara su condición. Hasta que en la novena noche, dejé de verlo y sentirlo. Supongo que encontró un nuevo hogar para contar sus maravillosas historias.
Siempre en mi corazón, abuelo.
In those last days, everything was strange. I would see him peeking out of my bedroom door, as was typical for him, or sitting at the dining room table, crestfallen. I was overwhelmed by my mom's sadness and hopelessness. I did not tell her that I was seeing him in the house, because perhaps that would make her sadder. There were many prayers for him, especially from my grandmother. Three daily rosaries and petitions to the altar of the house. At dawn, on Saturday, July 3, 2021, I got up very early and asked mommy about grandfather, she told me he was still the same. But, when she asked me why I was so distressed at that hour, I told her: grandpa just told me, "talk to me, tell me I am fine". Mommy, ran off to the hospital and, upon arrival, told him that he could leave, because everything would be fine. At 10:30 am, he took his last breath. At each prayer for his departure, I saw him looking at the horizon, as if little by little, he was accepting his condition. Until on the ninth night, I stopped seeing and feeling him. I guess he found a new home to tell his wonderful stories. Always in my heart, Grandpa.
Aquí, mi abuelo joven. El rostro que nunca olvidaré.
@tipu curate
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