[Haz click aquí para leer la nota en español]
It was the first of November, when they celebrate with those loved ones that had passed as if they were still alive! People flew kites that touched the sky as if they had wings, trying to connect with their loved ones on the other side. They decorated graves with beautiful flowers: daisies, bougainvilleas and carnations. They played music, danced, and laughed until their stomachs ached. To the side of each tombstone, a bottle of liquor was placed, in hopes that the body’s spirit would descend to drink and satiate the thirst that maybe it had not been able to when it was still alive.
José and his seventeen year old son were mesmerized as they observed the customs of this tradition at their small town’s cemetery the morning after Halloween. It had been a while since the last time they spent time together. Luis felt ashamed for the agony that his parents suffered in the middle of the night when the police knocked on their door. They had stopped him for driving under the influence of alcohol after he left a costume party. José paid a $2,500 fee–all his year’s savings–to bail his son out of jail. Without scolding Luis, he asked his son to accompany him to the cemetery.
Luis was puzzled when he saw a solitary skeleton seated on a bench as if she were waiting for someone. Her only company was something black and hairy with eight legs hanging from her neck, resembling a stone necklace. The skeleton was wearing a long and elegant dress as if she were going to an elite party, and a spider web that looked like a scarf covered her skull. On her left arm she was holding, very tight to her heart, a purple purse that seemed heavy as if it were carrying gold inside.
“Why are we here Dad?”
“The time to show you a side of life that I hope you will never experience has arrived. Just like that skeleton I, too, have been waiting for many years.”
“Waiting for what?”
“Waiting to meet the father I never had, to become a millionaire overnight, and to be able to buy a woman’s love. I hid my fears cowardly behind a mask of rebellion and apparent manhood. I wore a suit to cover my inner poverty. Toasted with the finest wine, hoping to quiet my inner cry. Got lost in brothels, trying to steal some affection. Drove expensive cars, yet I felt sad inside as if I were going to the cemetery in my own luxury coffin.
“When I was your age, I walked on the streets feeling dead inside. I regarded myself as a victim of circumstances. Resented others when they had something I did not, and even felt I had the right to steal from them. I got used to making easy money, and became a prisoner of vices, addictions and negative influences. Blamed life for my misfortunes without realizing that I was to blame of most of them. In the end, I was left completely alone. I hurt many people. I drowned my mom’s heart in agony while she was just trying to fill the gap that my father’s absence had left in my life.
“I made many mistakes, son, and paid a high price for them. I lost my legs. And for years I lost sleep, regretting not having asked my mom forgiveness in time. But one day you were born and saved me from falling off the cliff.
“I accept you the way you are, with your sexual orientation, your virtues and your flaws, your successes and your defeats. I may have not been a good father. I was never very affectionate or patient with you. In my desire to give you everything I lacked during my childhood, I forgot to spend more time together and to say how much I love you. And for this, I ask your forgiveness.
“Son, in few months you will turn eighteen. You will be a man, free to choose how to live your life. You will never be able to erase your past nor to control many future events in your destiny, but you sure will have the power in your hands to decide how you want to deal with them. I do not pretend to run your life, I only ask you: Please do not repeat my mistakes.
“Take time for you, and nurture your spirit! Appreciate nature while you still can see rainbows and smell the flowers. Go walk in the mountains and enjoy the sunrays that touch your skin. Listen attentively to the birdsong, the falling rain, and your friends’ secrets. Express your love to others while they can still hear you. Bringing them flowers, flying kites in their name, or lighting a candle will not be of much comfort once they are gone.
“In this world, we are traveling angels, just passing by. We come to learn lessons of life. Celebrate your successes and learn from your mistakes. And remember: At the end of your life, it will have been entirely up to you how you designed your journey through this land of angels.”
Pingback: xQsí Magazine — Viviendo en la Claridad: “Tierra de Ángeles”