2016...BITTERSWEET SYMPHONY

When a year is remebered negatively  the only thing you want is this year to leave. While this 2016 showed me how low a human can get, how selfish and untruthful he/she can be, it also showed me with whom I can count on my life. Friends and relatives who in difficult moments were there. That with a call, a message or their presence made me understand "I am here for you".
I knew from the beginning that it would be a tough year. I went through one of the strongest pains a person can go through: my father's death. One of the most present, dear and influential people in my life. I should want this year to fuck off ... but now! However, I have this bittersweet feeling : every day that passes by makes me away more than the last time I was with my dad. That hurts to pieces. That is why it is difficult for me to assume that in a little more than one day 2017 will be here.
Nevertheless I want to try to be optimistic. Not only is the year in which my father left, but also that the first anniversary of his death is very soon approaching. But ... with all the experience I won - and suddenly - during 2016 is that I want this new year that is about to begin come full of only good things. I wish it and I will receive it.
2017 I wait for you with open arms. Just like receiving a friend who wants to help me get on with my life. I want to continue to express my feelings with this cute mania inherited from my father which is writing. I want my husband and my children to be very healthy. I want my family and friends to be well. But above all ... I do not want to forget you dad. I will cry because that is inevitable. And I know that you will be in me every day. And you will remaind me that every time I look myself  in the mirror and see your face in mine, as your own grandchildren Valentina and Rodrigo have told me a thousand times.
Goodbye 2016, you took one of my great treasures. Welcome 2017, help me continue to fill my dad with pride, wherever he is.
Happy 2017 to all those who read me ... and  love me.

THE ENVY OF THE REST

I consider myself a lucky person. And I know that hurts. It causes envy.
I got married. For the civil and for the church and in both opportunties you were there. You handed me over. I know I did not have that problem that the son-in-law or the daughter-in-law did not like, fortunately. By that I say I HAD LUCK.
I got married. I went to live apart with my husband. Always with parental support. My father was present in both childbirth and child rearing.
You
helped me, when no one found out.
My father was ill, very sick. I could never have thought of getting married while my father was in a coma.
He told me: "you were lucky, you have the couple, beautiful and healthy."
Dad ... Your grandson has your name and I'll see to it that he values it.
I miss you.

THE VALUE OF A PROMISE

According to the Dictionary of the Royal Spanish Academy of Language PROMISE  is defined as: 

. "Expression

  of the

  wish of

Give someone or do something for him. "

-"Solemn offering, without religious formula, but

Equivalent to an oath to perform well the duties of a

Charge or function to be exercised. "

Promise: a legal or sometimes moral value. From my point of view, the fact that it is moral is even more valuable. Especially considering who is made that promise for. It should-or ought-to be the greatest will and dullness in fulfilling it.

But, what happens when there's a huge wall in front of you that doesn't let you continue with the promise that with your soul and with all your heart you swore to fulfill ?. It already becomes exhausting, draining and even causing damage to the health of those who do want to keep it. You see yourself preaching in the desert in front of beings who believe they have more right or knowledge than you, who are based on lies to carry out their selfish desire. And they will have no qualms about slandering you-even knowing their own reality and behavioral history-as long as they can  indispose you.

I lost the battle. As a consolation I have the knowledge that perhaps the person to whom I made this promise knows that I tried by all means ... but they put obstacles to the size of Everest Mount.

It hurts. And I feel that I have betrayed - though involuntarily - someone who told me a thousand times in private "do this, do that, promise me". And I agreed, from the heart. But stabbing in the back to someone who can not give his opinion is unforgivable. My conscience is not calm, even though I know it's not my fault. The others ... probably are. Because I know that sense of responsibility, loyalty and honesty  THEY DO NOT HAVE.

I am sorry. Forgive me.

NOTHING TO CELEBRATE

If you're not here...I have nothing to celebrate,

FATHER'S DAY

In the circumstances in which I am on this date it is only as can be. Father's Day. trade date, they say. It may be but it has always been the day when all greet with special affection and love that perhaps the most important man in our lives. That man often example to follow. When we were kids gave us maybe a bump on the head ... or congratulated us on a good qualification. Jealous if they looked at her daughter. Proud if it was the son.
Anyway. That man, which we call "Dad" is no longer with me. So is. This is my first Father's Day without my dad. Advertisements, commercials both on TV and in the mall .... everywhere cruelly reminding me that I now have no one to hug. There is a father in my family however. My own children's one. And it's a great dad. Worried, grumpy, fun with their kids. It's nice to see him with the children. But ... I do not have mine with me ... and it hurts.

As well as this one, many  Father's Days to come and I will remember and feel again that emptiness and a desire to hug him and say "Happy Day Dad" as I  used to until last year. I'll look at your amphora. I will light a special candle for you and with tears in my eyes I will go to your photo and say  "I can not hug you nor kiss you but ... Happy Day Dad, I love you, I miss you ... even more every day."

MY FATHER AND HIS GUITAR

My dad playing and performing "The Clock" (El Reloj) by Roberto Cantoral. The girl's voice which is heard at the beginning saying "reloooooooj" it's me when I was  about 5 or 6 years. I am also making background sounds clock.

TO YOU

Hi. I's been  3 months. Do you know I miss you a lot? Do you remember the promise I made to you? Well, I am doing, but there is another I did to you and ask you if you are watching me from somewhere give me a hand.
Anyway. Let me tell you that these three months have not been enough to stop crying. I dream of you every night, sometimes I forget that you're not here and I even  start to dial your number and then  ... I remember the horrible reality.
People tell me not to cry, I must be strong, I have children but you know what happens? I do not think it's good suppress my feelings. And  I don't think that if you see me crying is wrong either-if you really see-because you knew this would happen. We talked about it a thousand times.
By the way .... how was the trip? You gave my greetings? do not forget what I asked you.
Well, I do not want to bother you anymore. I just want you to know that you're still in my thoughts-and you'll always be-you know why? Because you are nothing less than my dad.