SUNSHINE REGGAE

July is close to its end and I can't say I've been too lazy to feed my blog. It is just that I've been busy, very busy with lots of things, and, as you all know, the day has only 24 hours, so I have to choose how I use them.

This summer the weather is not the usual one; days are cloudy with showers most of the time, this ought to encourage my story-sharer writings but funny enough, the more cloudy and grey, the more I enjoy doing other things... Yeah, shame on me! But no regrets so far ^_***

No pool, no swims in the sea, no sun-tanning - obviously unless you want to catch a nice cold instead of a nice sun-tan - either. So what the hell am I doing?

Well, I am having fun reading books and blogs, listening to music, watching movies - thank you Internet - and playing golf; I might as well say learning to play golf instead -.

Oh, but stop that! Nope I am far from being posh. No, no, no.

I'll tell you why: my house is cleaned, my laundry-basket is empty, my ironing is done, I am looking cool and relaxed - less tanned then the previous summers - but looking swell any way. My family is fed, my fridge is full, my friends are not neglected, and my dog is daily brushed and a long etc...

So, what has changed?

Just the fact that the sun is absent or playing hide-and-seek with clouds.

That's it. Nothing else.

Now, when I wake up in the morning, after a nice eight hours sleep, I don't mind if the day is grey or with intermittent clouds. I don't mind at all if our pool is bored to death and its water cold. I don’t care if my skin is paler then other summers, I don't care if I can't rest in a hammock half fainted or stunned by the heat... Nope, I just don't mind at all.

I know THIS is not the "looking forward" summer that mums with kids dream of the whole year. Damn I would not like to tam kids who want to splash in the big blue sea or in the pool, jumping and screaming at the top of their voices. I know it is hard time for you girls and believe me I really feel sorry for you, but... I don't want to blow your bubble, but it seems that our summer is on holiday too.

Be positive, or at least try to be positive. I'm sure it is just a kind of coffee break and not a three weeks holiday. So cheer up and keep smiling ^_***

ADIOOOSS

Hoy me he levantado realmente cansada.

El sueño aún pegaba mis ojos y mi cuerpo se encontraba en un estado de alta gravidez; muy pesado, como si hubiese estado caminando en un escafandro bajo el mar… ¿No sé si me explico bien?

Tomé mi desayuno mientras escuchaba un programa “talk-show” en la tele – ni tan solo me encontraba yo de humor para una conversación educada con nadie, ni si quiera mi marido-. Mis labios también pesaban horrores y mi cerebro estaba fuera de servicio…

Me llevé el tazón de té y me senté frente a mi ordenador portátil. Entré en mi cuenta del Facebook, miré mi muro y me di cuenta de que tenía 190 amigos!!!

¿¿¿Amigos??? ¿¿¿190 amigos??? ¡¡¡Venga ya!!! Los llamo “Facebookianos”. No son amigos. Yo no tengo 190 amigos: no se lo cree nadie esto, y además es algo imposible, al menos a mí entender. No soy amiga de la humanidad entera…

Así que decidí que iba a borrar algunos de ellos.

Esto es realmente una cosa extraordinaria; hoy en día la tecnología nos brinda la posibilidad de BORRAR a la gente… Biennnn!!!

Empecé por todos los que no están nunca, los que no escriben nunca ni un post ni un comentario, ni tan solo un “me gusta”.

Para qué tienen una cuenta en Facebook? No es de mi incumbencia, por lo tanto los fui borrando alegremente…

Adiosss a todos los “amigos” que encontré después de 30 años. Hasta luego chicos, entonces éramos críos, pero ahora somos adultos y si estáis taaaann ocupados o bien sois taaaann perezosos para conservar una antigua amistad, os podéis ir, por lo que a mi me toca, tranquilamente al cuerno, ¡pues me importa un bledo!

De hecho no pienso volver a veros dentro de 30 años, así es que: adioosss!

Quedaros con vuestra vida tan liada, parad de husmear en mi cuenta, sigilosamente; podéis incluso quedaros en vuestro anonimato de forma indefinida…
Espero que la vida os trate bien y os deseo lo mejor en la privacidad de vuestro muro mudo en Facebook!

Tiro una raya perfecta… ADIOSSS ^_***

BUH-BYE

I woke up really tired today.

Sleep was still gluing my eyes and my body was in a state of high gravity, so heavy, like walking in a rigid diving suit under the sea... if you see what I mean.

I had my breakfast while listening to a talk-show on TV - was not either in the mood for a polite chat with anyone, not even with my hubs -. My lips were heavy too and my brain out-of-service...

I took my cup of tea with me and sat down in front of my laptop. I logged into my facebook account, stared at my wall and found out I had 190 friends!!!

Friends??? 190 friends??? C'mon!!! I call them "Facebookers". They are not friends. I don't have 190 friends: that is totally unbelievable and impossible for me at least. The whole humankind is not my friend...

So I decided I was going to delete some of them.

Now that is really a great thing; nowadays technology enables us to DELETE people... woooootttt!!!

I started with all those who are never online, who never write a post or a comment, not even an "I like it".

Why do they have an account in Facebook? Not my fucking business anyway, so I deleted them enthusiastically...

Buh-bye to all the "friends" I met again after 30 years. So long guys, we were kids thirty years ago, but now we are grown-ups and if you are sooo busy and sooo lazy to keep an old friendship, you might as well go to hell because, as far as I'm concerned, I don't care a damn!

As a matter of fact I am not going to see you again 30 years ahead from now, so buh-bye!

Keep your busy life, stop snooping into my account, silently; you can even stay endlessly in your anonymity...

Hope life will treat you kind and I wish you all the best in the privacy of your silent Facebook wall!

I am drawing a perfect line... BUH-BYE ^_***

HOY EN DIA

¡Albert tenía que ver a su madre! Esta visita también iba a ser dolorosa, lo sabía, pero tenía que hacerlo… y lo hizo.

La anciana lo miró con orgullo pero no dijo absolutamente nada. No estaba ni triste ni siquiera compungida, según él.

“Madre, ¿por qué? ¿Es cierto esto?”

Pero ella no rompió su silencio, sus labios estaban sellados, tan solo cerró los ojos en un gesto de cansancio…

“¿Qué podía decirle? Es tan mayor, y seguramente hizo lo que creyó era lo mejor para mi… Ahora solo sé que no quiero mirar más el pasado. El presente y el futuro son maravillosos”.

Albert le dio sus apellidos y su nacionalidad a su niña y aquel año, por primera vez celebraron las fiestas navideñas, juntos en Londres como una familia más con nietos incluidos.

Llego el verano y reunió a todos sus mejores amigos, como lo hacía prometido, para presentarnos a su hija.

La fiesta fue inolvidable. R. era clavadita a su padre; eran como dos gotas de agua. Todo el mundo estaba feliz y todos nos lo pasamos en grande.
El verano se fue. El se volvió a Londres con Carole y R. se volvió a Alemania.

Llegó el otoño y nos volvimos a encontrar con la pareja británica para cenar en un bonito restaurante en la playa. Éramos seis. Albert estaba estupendo, como siempre, y Carole estaba tranquila y poco habladora como siempre.

Cuando nos despedimos con unos besos, Albert dijo que estaba resfriado y que el lunes iría al médico, pues se encontraba mal y estaba cansado.
Fue la última vez que lo vimos con vida… Todavía no lo sabíamos entonces pero aquellos besos de despedida fueron los últimos.

Falleció el 9 de julio en Londres: Carole y él estaban con las manos entrelazadas.

Albert fue incinerado, respectando sus últimas voluntades y parte de sus cenizas fueron enterradas en su casa de campo en Inglaterra. El resto sería esparcido en el mar Mediterráneo…

Todos sus amigos españoles acompañaron a Carole y a su hija. Le dijimos adiós y lanzamos 39 rosas rojas al mar… Albert se fue navegando…

El pasado nueve de julio, en el tercer aniversario de su muerte, Carole tuvo por fin la fuerza de volver a su querida Costa Brava.

Todavía lo echa de menos

Todavía está en nuestros corazones.
Adiós Albert, te queremos.

NOWADAYS

Albert had to see his mother! This visit was going to be a painful one, he knew that, but he had to do it... and so he did.

The old lady stared at him proudly but didn't say anything at all. She was not sad, neither ashamed according to him.

"Mother, tell me why? Is that true?"

But she remained in silence, her lips sealed, she just closed her eyes, she was looking tired...

"What could I say? She is so old, and she probably did her best... Now I know that I don't want to look back any longer. Present and future are wonderful".

Albert gave his name and his nationality to his daughter and that year, for the first time they celebrated Xmas together in London as a family with grand kids.

Summer time came and he gathered all his close friends, as promised, to introduce his daughter to us.

The party was unforgettable. R. looked like her father; they were like two peas in a pod. Everybody was delighted and we all had a great time.

Albert was beaming and was hugging everybody around him. He was happy. Life was going on and life was good.

Summer passed by. He went back to London with Carole and R. went back to Germany.

Fall came and we met the British couple to have dinner in a lovely restaurant by the sea. We were six at table. Albert was looking great, as always, and Carole was peaceful and quiet, as always.

When we kissed each other goodbye, Albert who had a bad cold, told us he was going to visit the doctor on Monday, as he was feeling sick and weak.

That was the last time we saw him alive... We didn't know it at that time but those kisses were the last ones.

He passed away on July 9th in London; he was holding hands with Carole.

Albert was cremated, according to his last will and part of his ashes buried in their country house in England. The rest was going to be thrown into the Mediterranean Sea...

All his Spanish friends were there to support Carole and his daughter. We said goodbye to him throwing 39 red roses into the sea... Albert was sailing...

Last July, on the third anniversary of his death, Carole had finally the strength to come back to his dear Costa Brava.

She is still missing him.

He is still in our hearts.

Bye bye Albert we love you.

¿POR QUÉ?

Me fundí en un abrazo con Carole mientras Albert bebía un sorbo de su refresco. Se aclaró la voz y prosiguió:

“Me pase horas y horas hablando con mi hija. Habíamos perdido tantas cosas por el camino. Teníamos tanto que contarnos.

Mirarla era como verme a mí mismo en un espejo. Su castellano era perfecto, sin ningún acento. Era tan mediterránea con su cabello negro, sus ojazos negros, su piel morena… ¡Era preciosa!

Me disculpe por haber estado ausente tanto tiempo de su vida. Le dije que desconocía totalmente su nacimiento y su existencia. Era incapaz de darle una explicación que excusase mi silencio y mi ausencia.

No había ninguna rabia, ningún rencor en ella; estaba tan feliz de haberme encontrado…

Carole y yo nos fuimos a Alemania para conocer la familia de R: su marido y sus dos hijos – mis nietos -.

No puedo encontrar las palabras para expresar cuan hermoso y doloroso fue aquel encuentro. Aún sigo sin poder describir mi estado emocional y mis sensaciones.

Tan solo me preguntaba ¿POR QUÉ?

¿POR QUÉ? Esta era la palabra clave de otro trozo de mi historia. Tenía que preguntárselo a mi madre – una anciana de más de ochenta años – y a mi hermano mayor.

Así es que Carole y yo viajamos hasta Barcelona.

Jamás olvidaré la reacción de mi hermano cuando le confesé que había conocido a mi hija. Se hundió en la butaca, abrió la boca para contestar pero fue incapaz de proferir si quiera algún sonido, mientras las lágrimas le recorrían las mejillas.

“Perdóname Albert. Por favor, perdóname. Madre y yo creímos que sería lo mejor para ti.

-¿Lo mejor para mí? ¿Durante 39 años? ¡Joder! Creo que me merezco más explicaciones ¿no crees?

-Ya sabes que Madre estaba muy disgustada acerca de tu relación con R. y que te había prohibido seguir viéndola. ¡Eras un crio, Albert! Tenias que terminar tus estudios y además ella tenía diez años más que tu. ¡Pero estabas tan enamorado de ella! Fue por esto que Madre y el tío S. le ofrecieron dinero para que abandonase el país: fueron muy generosos con ella, tienes que creerme”.

Tengo que añadir que mi madre enviudó cuando tenía doce años y que el hermano de mi padre era nuestro albacea.

Y mi hermano siguió diciendo: “Unos cuantos meses más tarde, Madre interceptó una carta dirigida a ti, donde R. te hablaba de su embarazo…”

Llegados a este punto de la conversación, estaba lívido y sin voz… ¡Mi propia madre y mi propio hermano, sangre de mi sangre, habían conservado el secreto todos estos años!

Estaba llorando y mi hermano también.

-Sigue por favor.

-Así es que Madre y Tío S. le mandaron más dinero rogándole que fuera paciente y generosa, pues te iban a contar la verdad al finalizar tus estudios…

-¡Sabes que no fue el caso! ¿Qué paso?

-Supimos que fue una niña, y nuevamente Madre apeló a la generosidad de R. suplicándole que la entendiese ahora que ella también era madre…

-¿Y? ¡Sigue por Dios Santo!

-Su correspondencia duró unos cinco años… más o menos, y entonces fue cuando Madre le dijo que tenías una nueva vida y de que no querías saber nada de tu hija… ¿Podrás perdonarme algún día?”

La autentica pregunta era: ¿sería yo capaz de perdonar mi propia madre?

WHY?

Carole and I fell into one another's arms, as Albert was taking a sip from his drink. He cleared his throat and said: 

“I spent hours and hours chatting with my daughter. We had lost so many things in the way. We had so much to catch up.

Looking at her was like looking at me in a mirror. Her Spanish was perfect, no accent at all. She looked so Mediterranean with her black hair and her black eyes, with her tanned skin… She was awesome!

I apologized to her for all the time I had been missing in her life. I told her that I really didn’t know anything at all about her birth and her existence.

I was unable to give her any explanation at all for my silence and my absence.

There was no anger, no bitterness in her; she was just so happy to have found me…

Carole and I went to Germany to meet R’s family: her husband and their two sons – my grandsons -.

I cannot find the words to express how wonderful and how painful that meeting was. I still don’t know how to express my emotional feelings and sensations.

I was just wondering WHY?

WHY? That was the key word to another part of the story. I had to ask my mother – an old lady in her eighties – and my eldest brother.

So Carole and I travelled to Barcelona.

I will never forget my brother’s reaction when I told her I had finally met my daughter. He just sank into his armchair, opened his mouth to answer but was unable to pronounce a single sound, as tears were running down his cheeks.

“Forgive me Albert. Please forgive me. Mother and I just thought it was the best for you.

-The best for me? During 39 years? Wow! I deserve a little more explanations, don’t you think so?

-You know that Mother was extremely upset about your relation with R. and that she had forbidden you to see her. You were a child, Albert! You had to finish your studies and she was ten years your eldest! But you were so much in love with her! This is why Mother and Uncle S. gave her money to leave our country: they were really generous with her, you have to trust me.

I have to say that my mother became a widow when I was twelve years old and it was my father’s brother who was our testamentary executor.

And my brother went on saying: “A few months later, Mother intercepted a letter addressed to you, where R. was telling you about her pregnancy…"

At that point of our conversation I was livid and voiceless… My mother and my brother, my flesh and blood, had kept that secret during all those years! I was crying silently and so was my brother.

-Go on please.

-So Mother and Uncle S. send her more money asking her to be patient and to be generous. They promised you were going to know the truth at the end of your studies…

-You know it was not the case! What happened?

-We were told it was a baby girl, and Mother appealed once more to R. generosity begging her to understand her now that she was a mother too…

-And? Go on for Christ’s sake!

-Their correspondence last five years… more or less, and then Mother told her that you had a new life and that you didn’t want to know about your daughter… Could you ever forgive me?”

The real question was: would I be able to forgive my own mother!