El gran paso/The big decision

La vida está llena de estos grandes pasos. No es sólo uno el que debemos tomar a lo largo de nuestra existencia. Cuando decidí mudarme a vivir sola, lejos de mi casa materna y de mi familia a los 22 años, todos me decían que estaba dando un gran paso en mi vida. Decidir qué quería ser en y hacer de mi vida, a qué profesión dedicarme; nuevamente otro gran paso. El gran paso de decidir casarme y formar mi familia, y la llegada de Sol y convertirme en madre por primera vez.
Comprar mi primer departamento y decidir dónde; luego la casa en la costa y nuevamente tomar la decisión de cuál sería el mejor lugar. Otro gran paso, entre los tantos que ya venía dando... y los que vendrían, y siguen viniendo!!
Y cuando falleció mi mamá vino el que pensé sería el último con tanta importancia: dar el paso de separarme, porque así no iba más. Mas en el intento por salvar lo insalvable, por Sol, quedé embarazada de Sofía. Y nuevamente otro gran paso: el de decidir seguir adelante sola a pesar de una separación anunciada.
La vida me pone a prueba continuamente, tomando decisiones que no quiero tomar, diciéndome, bah, en realidad gritándome en la cara que decida y tome el siguiente paso. En muchos de los pasos que tomé me equivoqué, imposible no admitirlo, pero con cada uno de esos pasos fui siendo la Jeannie que soy hoy, con mis defectos y virtudes.
Y cada día sigo teniendo que decidir y dar otro paso: al elegir el presente de mis hijas y pensar en cómo influirá sobre su futuro; al elegir mis amistades, en quién confiar y en quién no. Y aunque muchas veces me duela, voy dejando en el camino gente a la que quiero mucho.
Y ahora, ¿es necesario decidir si dar este gran paso y decirte adiós para siempre? Cómo me encantaría que me dijeras que no, que estás ahí y seguirás estando, que no te marchas y que no debo despedirme de tí para siempre...

Life is full of these big decisions. It is not just ONE big decision in life but so many of them at different times. When I decided to move and live alone, away from my family and home when I was 22 years old, everyone told me this was a big decision I was making, an important step I was taking into my future. To decide what I wanted to be and become in life, what profession to pursue; once again, another big decision. The big decision of deciding to marry and have my own family, and Sol´s birth and becoming a mother for the first time.
Buying my first apartment and deciding where; then the house on the beach and once again deciding which would be the best location to do so. Another big step, among so many I had already given... and among those to come, and which are still coming my way!!
And when my mom died, came what I believed would be the last decision of such importance: giving the step towards separation and divorce, as we could not keep on this way. But we tried it once again, making the effort of loving each other again for Sol, as she deserved to have her parents with her. And when doing so, I became pregnant of Sophia, my sweet angel. And once again a very important decision: To carry on with my life and my kids on my own.
Life is testing me every day, making me make decisions I don´t want to make, telling me, bah, it´s more like shouting at me in the face to decide and give the next step. In many of the steps I have taken, I have made mistakes, impossible not to admit it; but with every one of those decisions I have made, I have turned into the Jeannie I am today, with all my flaws and virtues.
And I have to keep on making decisions and taking steps forward: when chosing my daughters´ present and thinking how it might influence their future; when chosing my friends, learning who to trust in and who not to trust. And although many times it might hurt, there are people who are left along the way, people whom I loved dearly.
And now, is it necessary to decide if I should make this big decision and say goodbye to you forever? I would love to hear you saying that I mustn´t, that you are there for me and will always be, that you are not leaving and that I mustn´t say goodbye...

The underground train/ El subterráneo

The most amazing people can be seen when one travels everyday in the underground train in Buenos Aires. There are those selling anything from hair-bands to flashlights, passing through an assortment of the most varied items (pens, stickers, note-books, maps of the city, cookies... you name it, you have it).

One can also see the young adolescents who automatically look the other way whenever a pregnant woman, elderly or handicapped person steps on to the train... they suddenly become too busy with their i-pods, listening to their music and wondering, "Where shall I hang out tonight?", too busy to care enough for others around them.

There are also those who make of stealing their way of living... but there is also always the one who will shout out, "Watch your belongings! Thieves on board!", acting bravely? and aiming at scaring them and making them get off at the following station, many times achieving the aim. Sorry about those on the folowing train, as they might not get so lucky.

There are those two guys, from a theatre group, who walk along the wagons, sharing jokes and making people participate of their "show", in hope of bringing a smile to their otherwise troubled and stressed faces. I never fail to have a good laugh when I see them, even if I have already heard the same jokes a thousand times, because they are funny and positively make my day! At least that is their intention, and they very well pull it through with me!

And there is also this very, very old man. Lots maybe think that he is homeless, and he might very well be... I don´t know. All I know about him is that he is a poet, and walks along each wagon, slowly moving forward among the herds of people going to and from work, offering those well-mannered enough to accept his booklet of writings. And those, like me, who have had the decency of accepting it, have been shocked to see what beautiful poems he has written. I have already bought all of his productions, and like so many others, I await his presence in my train, hoping he will turn up with something new to sell.

In a way, I feel sorry for him, an old man having to make a living this way, when he has written some famous plays in his youth. And I am also proud of such a character, as he is strong enough to go out selling his writings, with his head as high as his old age permits him to, instead of begging on the streets or staying at home (does he have one?) wasting his life away.

Todo tipo de gente puede ser vista en el subte por los que cada día del año viajamos en él en la ciudad de Buenos Aires. Están los famosos vendedores ambulantes, que te venden desde unas banditas para el pelo hasta linternas, pasando por la más amplia variedad de productos (biromes, anotadores, stickers, mapas de la ciudad, galletitas... pedilo y lo tenés).

Uno también puede encontrarse con esos egoístas adolescentes, que al ver que sube al tren una embarazada, anciano o discapacitado, de pronto se vuelven ocupados con sus i-pods, interesados sólo en su música y preguntándose, "¿Dónde saldremos hoy con los chicos?", demasiado engrosados en su propio mundo como para interesarse en lo que ocurre a su alrededor.

Están también los "cacos" que hacen su día robando en el tren... y están también aquellos que, como yo, al reconocerlos, gritamos, "¡Cuidado con los chorros! ¡Cuiden sus pertenencias!", actuando ¿valientemente? y apuntando a asustarlos, lo cual muchas veces conseguimos, haciendo que se bajen en la siguiente estación con las manos vacías. Lástima por los que suben en el próximo tren... quizás no corran la misma suerte.

Están también estos dos tipos, jóvenes, del grupo de Teatro Ambulante Itinerante, quienes caminan por los diferentes vagones, haciendo bromas y pidiéndole a la gente que participe de su "show", esperando poder arrancarle una sonrisa a las grandes cantidades de personas que viajamos todos los días, algunos estresados y preocupados en demasía. Siempre me mato de la risa con ellos, aunque ya he escuchado sus mismas bromas infinidad de veces, porque sé que están ahí para divertirnos un rato, son graciosos y me hacen mucho bien!

Y también está este hombre viejito. Muchos pueden llegar a considerarlo un hombre de la calle, por su aspecto desgarbado y mal aliñeado, y quizás lo sea... eso no lo sé. Todo lo que sé de él es que es un poeta, un escritor, y que camina por lo diferentes vagones, moviéndose lentamente por entre las personas que van y vienen del trabajo, ofreciendo a aquellos lo suficientemente educados para tomarlos, unos panfletos con sus escritos. Y aquellos que, como yo, hemos tenido la decencia de aceptarlos, hemos descubierto con asombro los hermosos poemas que ha escrito este buen señor. Ya he comprado todas sus producciones, y como tantos otros, espero verlo en el subte cuando viajo, deseando que aparezca con algo nuevo para vender.

En cierta forma, siento pena por él, un hombre tan mayor debiendo vivir de esta manera, cuando ha escrito varias obras teatrales que fueron famosas en su época de juventud. Y también estoy orgullosa de él, ya que es lo suficientemente fuerte para salir a vender lo que ha escrito, con su cabeza tan alta como su edad le permite, en lugar de estar mendigando por las calles o quedándose en su casa (¿tiene hogar este hombre?), viendo como su vida se le va de entre las manos.

A thought/ Una cita...

"I believe that my life's going to see the love I give returned to me". JOHN MAYER

Isn't it a great way to look at life?

"Creo en que mi vida me devolverá el amor que siempre doy". John Mayer.

No es una magnífica forma de encarar la vida?

I can't understand/ No puedo entender...

I can't understand this aching ... in my heart, for you, for what was, for what could have been, for what is not today...
How to explain what I am feeling today?
It is not the first time that you have disappeared from my life and then turned up again... and I have always been waiting for you, with an aching heart at times, others with a broad smile, knowing that you needed your space and would be back. But it IS the first time that we are not on very good speaking terms, when our communications are lacking emotions and feelings altogether.
So now I am wondering: when did it happen? When did we stop talking to each other? When did it happen that we started ignoring each other and just communicating in a very businesslike way? Why did it happen? What led us to this awkward and cold relationship?... if we were so close, we loved each other so, were there for one another... has any of us changed? People do not change, or do they?
Or could it be that your heart now has an owner other than me, that you have no room for me in your life any longer? If only you would speak clearly and say what is going on...
I have no idea how to reach out to you, and don't know if I should either... if you will ever need me or love me as you used to... I know I do.

No puedo entender esta pena... en el alma, por vos, por lo que fue, por lo que pudo haber sido, por lo que no es hoy...
Cómo explicar lo que siento hoy? No es la primera vez que has desaparecido de mi vida y después volviste... Y yo siempre te he estado esperando, con un corazón dolido a veces, otras con una gran sonrisa, sabiendo que necesitabas tu espacio y que volverías. Pero ES la primera vez que no estamos en buenos términos, en que nuestras comunicaciones están totalmente faltas de emociones y sentimientos.
Por eso ahora me pregunto: cuándo ocurrió? Cuándo fue que dejamos de hablarnos? Cuándo empezamos a ignorarnos y a comunicarnos sólo en forma distante? Por qué ocurrió? Qué nos llevó a esta realación tan bizarra, distante y fría? ... si éramos tan cercanos, nos amábamos tanto, estábamos siempre ahí el uno para el otro... ha cambiado alguno de nosostros? La gente no cambia... o sí?
O será que tu corazón ya ha encontrado quién lo cuide y lo ame que no sea yo, y por eso ya no tienes lugar en tu vida para mí? Si sólo hablaras clraramente y dijereas qué es lo que ocurre... No tengo idea cómo alcanzarte, ni tampoco sé si debiera... si alguna vez me becesitarás o amarás como solías hacerlo... yo sé qué sí te necesito y te amo.

Can you believe it?/ Pueden creerlo?

This was written to me by a very dear friend of mine, who lives in India:

"All I saw was this blinding display picture. The one with a lot of brightness, the face unclear, a warm radiant smile showing through. That picture is gone, but the smile remains, so does the warmth and the radiance.
The right amount of reassurance, meaningful advice, the silliest of silly jokes and just the right amount of cheeriness woven together to make for a fantastic acquaintance. She is one of those people who say it all with a few strong words, who stand out and stand tall among a mesh of other interactions, those who are capable of making a difference even in the shallow and unpredictable forum which is the virtual world. I will follow her suit and try saying it with a few words...
It has been nice knowing you.. She knows some of my greatest secrets, weaknesses...and knows how to keep them to herself. I wait patiently for that day when we can meet up and share a few laughs.JEAN, there are few people in this world who have got the right blend of sweetness of dark choc and freshness of mint choc...Baby rock on..."


We have never been able to meet personally yet, and in spite of his very young age, he is someone I know I can always count on, with whom I have shared long hours of online interaction... and even though we are not in touch on a daily basis, we have always respected each other's absences and silences, because that is what human relationships are all about: respect for the other person and his or her space, acceptance of what the other person is, at all times. And if we have been able to become so close, in spite of being so far apart, it is mainly because we have always respected and accepted each other. Because of this, my dearest Akhand, I am thankful to you and your sweet friendship. I wish everyone was as mature as you are (although you are still sooo young) and could understand others as well as learning to understand themselves... life would be so much easier and less painful too!


Esto que paso a escribir me lo mandó un amigo mío, de la India:

"Lo único que ví fue una fotografía que tenía mucho brillo, con una cara que estaba borrosa, y una sonrisa radiante y cálida que se veía a través de la foto. La fotografía ya no está, pero la sonrisa permanece, al igual que la calidez.
La cantidad justa de confianza, consejos con sentido, la más zonza de las bromas tontas y la cantidad exacta de alegría entretejidos para formar una relación. Ella es una de esas personas que lo dice todo con unas cuantas palabras de fuerza, que sobresale de entre la maraña de otras interacciones, esas que son capaces de marcar una diferencia aún en el foro impredecible y superficial del mundo virtual. Seguiré lo que hace ella y trataré de decirlo en pocas palabras...
Ha sido un placer conocerte... Ella conoce algunos de mis grandes secretos, mis debilidades... Y sabe cómo guardarlos en secreto... Espero pacientemente por ese día en que nos encontremos y compartamos algunas risas... JEAN, hay poca gente en este mundo que tengan la mezcla justa de la dulzura del chocolate y la frescura del chocolate con menta."

Nunca hemos podido conocernos personalmente aún, y a pesar de su tan corta edad, es alguien en el que siempre puedo confiar, con quien he compartido largas horas online... y aunque no estemos conectados diariamente, siempre hemos repetado las ausencias y silencios del otro, porque de eso se tratan las realciones humanas: respeto por la otra persona y su espacio, aceptación de lo que es la otra persona en todo momento. Y si hemos podido volvernos tan cercanos, a pesar de la gran distancia que nos separa, es principalmente porque nos hemos respetado y aceptado. Por esto, mi querido Akhand, te estoy agradecida y agradezco tu dulce amistad. Qué bueno que sería que todos fueran tan maduros como vos (aunque sos tan joven) y pudieran entender a los otros y aprender a entenderse a si mismos... la vida sería tanto más fácil y menos complicada, y menos dolorosa también!

Hockey!!!! Una pasión/ A passion

Hockey... el deporte que, como tantos otros calculo, se hace con pasión. Una vez que lo conoces, lo amas o lo detestas. En mi caso, lo empecé a practicar a los 8 años y se transformó en mi pasión durante 19 años . Ya a los 27 creí que estaba muy grande para seguir jugando y que debía dejarle lugar a las nuevas generaciones que llegaban al club. Y por eso colgué el palo por lo que yo pensé sería para siempre.

Pero las vueltas de la vida quisieron que este año empezara nuevamente, que retomara esta pasión que durante tanto tiempo me había hecho extremadamente feliz. Así que a mis 44 años , empecé nuevamente a jugar los sábados... y no pasó mucho tiempo, antes que empezara a ir a entrenamiento dos veces por semana también. Nunca creí que pudiera hacerlo otra vez... después de tantos años sin hacer nada!

En esta foto están tan sólo algunas de las jugadoras que compartimos cada sábado por la tarde disfrutando a full. Y Riky, nuestro querido coach, mi amigo de la infancia, con el cual tanto nos divertimos los tres días semanales en que nos juntamos a ponernos en forma.

Gracias al hockey, este año pude sobrellevar días grises, momentos de tristeza y soledad, porque de eso se trata este deporte... de dejar todo lo que nos acongoja al entrar en la cancha y olvidarnos de la realidad que nos rodea por esos 70 minutos que dura cada uno de los dos partidos, dejando todo en cada partido, haciéndolo todo con PASIÓN!!!.

Ahora terminó el campeonato, pero nos seguimos juntando para entrenar, para vernos, reírnos y divertirnos unas cuantas horas a la semana.

Quiero que llegue marzo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Para volver a jugar todos los sábados!!!!
Lo que he explicado del hockey me describe a mí bastante bien: todo lo que hago en mi vida lo hago con pasión, dando el 100% de mí... en el amor, la familia, la amistad, el trabajo... y hay personas a las que parece costarles entenderlo, pero si lo hicieran, podrían vivir sus vidas más plenamente y con felicidad, dejando que la pasión los guíe por la vida!!

Field hockey, the sport which, as so many others I guess, is done with passion. Once you know the game, you either love it or hate it. In my case, I started practising it when I was 8 years old, and played for 19 years. Then, when I was 27, I thought I was too old to keep up with it and that I should leave room for the younger generations at the club. And so... I gave up the sport for what I thought would be forever.

But life wanted me to take it up again... and so at my 44 years of age, I started going to play matches on Saturday and soon enough started going to hockey practice twice a week as well!! And I never thought I would be able to cope with it, as it had been 17 years of doing nothing!!

In this photograph just a few of my teammates can be seen. And Riky, our dearest coach and my childhood friend, with whom we have so much fun those three times a week when we get together to have a good laugh and become fit.

Thanks to hockey, this year I was able to pull through blue days, moments of sadness and loneliness, because that is what this sport is about... of leaving everything that harms us when we step onto the field and forget about the reality around us during those 70 minutes that each match lasts, giving everything of us in every match, doing it with PASSION!!!!!

The championship is over now, but we keep on getting together to practise, laugh and have fun together for several hours every week.
I want March to be here soon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! To play matches for the championship every Saturday!!!!!

What I have said about hockey pretty much describes me: I do whatever I face in life with passion, giving 100% of me in everything... love, family, friendship, work... and some people seem to find it hard to understand, but if they did, they would live so much more happily, letting passion guide them through life!!!!!!

Sobran las palabras...

Sólo resta decir... que así solías estar...

A nice song/ Una linda canción

There might be those who might feel that this is just like any other romantic song... a lot of the same. But the lyrics in it are what I feel today... As it is in Spanish I include a translation of the song (Jeannie style... just the general meaning of it) ... because you couldn't understand my heart and what there was in it; because you didn't have the courage to see who I was. Because you cannot listen what is so near you but only the noise form the outside, and so I disappear even though I am by your side.
I am not going to say that I don't deserve this, because maybe I do, but as I don't want it, I say goodbye and leave; what a pity, I say goodbye and I leave. Because I know that there is something better, someone who will know how to give me love, of the type that sweetens salt and that makes the sun come out. I thought I would never leave your side, that we had the type of good love that lasts a lifetime, but today I understood that there isn't enough for both of us. I am not going to cry and say that I don't deserve this because maybe I do, but though it is a pity, I am leaving.


Puede haber quienes consideren que ésta es sólo otra canción romántica... una como tantas otras. Puede ser que así sea, pero hoy me siento identificada con la letra, así que la incluyo en mi blog porque me gusta a mí!


Julieta Venegas: "Me Voy"

Porque no supiste entender a mi corazón

lo que había en el,

porque no tuviste el valor

de ver quién soy.

Porque no escuchas

lo que está tan cerca de tí,

sólo el ruido de afuera y yo,

que estoy a un lado desaparezco para tí

No voy a llorar y decir,

que no merezco esto porque,

es probable que lo merezco

pero no lo quiero, por eso...

Me voy, qué lástima pero adiós

me despido de tí y me voy,

qué lástima pero adiós

me despido de tí.

Porque sé, que me espera algo mejor

alguien que sepa darme amor,

de ese que endulza la sal

y hace que, salga el sol.

Yo que pensé, nunca me iría de tí,

que es amor del bueno, de toda la vida

pero hoy entendí,

que no hay suficiente para los dos.

No voy a llorar y decir,

que no merezco esto porque,

es probable que lo merezco

pero no lo quiero, por eso...

Me voy, qué lástima pero adiós

me despido de tí y me voy,

qué lástima pero adiós

me despido de tí.

Me voy, qué lástima pero adiós

me despido de tí y me voy,

qué lástima pero adiós

me despido de tí y me voy.

Rain again...

Rain again... strange spring this one... and I am feeling blue again, hoping for this hurting time to be over. Thought you were the right one, that you had come into my life for a reason as well as a season of never ending love and happiness. But I guess I was wrong... hoping for news from you and always accepting the excuses of too much work, issues to resolve and a complicated life to deal with, and at all times feeling I was at fault for not being there for you... when you know so damn well that I have ALWAYS been by your side, if not in person, always waiting for you, ready to give you a helping hand.

My tough luck, to have come upon such a selfish creature, who only thinks in his own well-being, as to feel well with oneself one must be selfish you once said. I guess I should learn how to be selfish too, and give a damn about whatever is keeping you away... it is your life, and you can chose to live it as you wish... pity you still haven't learnt how to pick the right people around you... well, guess I haven't either... it is a never-ending life learning experience, one I still have so much to learn about... and learn, specially, not to trust anyone right away... as there is a lot of evil around, and I seem never to be able to get used to the thought that you are not what you said you were, what I saw you were... you might be someone different altogether... but I don't want to see you that way. I cannot stop seeing you as I always have, because, in spite of your silences and absences, your silly messages and unbelievable questionings, you are still that fine gentleman I met some time ago, who changed my life and made me smile...

Spring and a rainy day again... feeling blue with losing you... but, did I ever have you? Did you truly ever care for me? Was I ever anyone special for you... or just one of your so many friends? You said I had changed your world... you DID change mine, but I guess it was not the only world you have changed... What happened along the way?

Only you have the answer to those questions... in my heart and soul, I know that I was special, I cannot tell why I stopped being so...

I was sent this Annie Lennox song by a dearest friend when we were chatting online last Saturday... my dearest Brit!!! And the lyrics are just so beautiful... but I haven't been able to come upon the video to upload it... still, a beautiful song. Enjoy what the words say... and I am hoping to get over my hurting time for you, which is not the first one since I have met you, though I do hope it will be the last...

"The Hurting Time"

To everything there is a purpose ...

To every blade of grass

And every leaf on every tree

Every livin' thing will surely

Come to pass

And what will be will be ...

That's when the hurtin' time begins

And all the things you never said

Or didn't have the strength to say

And everything you ever did

That time won't ever wash away

Fears that you've been livin' with

Come runnin' down your face

Runnin' down your face

When the hurtin' time begins ...

So tell me what the day brings

Has it lost its thrill?

Are you still searching

Hoping for that space to fill ...

Everything you turn to

Is like a mirror on the shelf

And the only one you're blaming is yourself

A million little deaths you've died

The times that you've been crucified

The more you've loved and lost and tried

And still could not be satisfied

When will you be satisfied?

When will you be satisfied?

Not till the hurtin' time begins

De qué sirve? / What is the use of it?

Ayer, una persona muy, muy cercana a mí me escribía lo que aquí paso a incluir:

"La verdad sos una mujer que admiro, que se te ve siempre erguida frente a la vida y nunca se rinde; y a pesar de todo lo bueno y lo malo, sos siempre el sostén del otro y espero poder a lo largo de la vida llegar a ser como vos, y tener las mismas ganas de vivir, adelante Leona!!!!!"

Qué lo parió, no? Qué hace una cuando te dicen algo así? Es decir, no me considero ejemplo de nadie... y mucho menos que pueda o deba influir sobre alguien de tal manera que quiera ser como yo!!!???!! Porque el que siempre me levante y le ponga el pecho a la vida y lo que me toque en suerte, nada tiene que ver con una elección, sino con un deber... porque mucha gente depende de mí, siendo las más importantes mis hijas.
De qué sirve, me pregunto a veces, dar esa impresión de fortaleza, cuando duele tanto cada día sentirme sola o no tenerte? Es positivo dar la impresión de tanta fortaleza cuando padezco y sufro como cualquier otra persona? A veces creo que es un buen escudo contra los que se acercan para aprovecharse... y otras tantas termina ahuyentando a los que me ven demasiado segura de mí misma, tan responsable y autosuficiente...
Así que... realmente vale la pena?

Yesterday, someone who is very, very close, wrote the following to me:

"You are a woman I truly admire, who can always be seen standing straight when facing life and who never ever gives up; and in spite of all the good and the bad in your life, you are always there for the others, giving them support, and I hope to be like you along my life and to have the same will to live!! Keep going, Leona!!!!!" (the Leonas are the players of the national hockey team in my country)

WoW!!!! What does one do when told something like this? I mean, I do not consider myself as an example of anything to anyone... let alone to have such an influence over that person's life that she wants to be like me!!!???!!! Because if I always get up when I fall and take everything that life sends my way the best way possible, it has nothing to do with a choice; it is my duty... because too many people depend upon me, being my daughters the most important of all.
I sometimes wonder, what is the use of giving the impression of strength, when it hurts so much not having you and feeling lonely? Is it positive to give this impression when I suffer as any other person does? I sometimes believe that it is a great shield against those who might get near to take advantage... and so many others it works negatively towards pushing away those who see me so self-assured, so reponsible and self-sufficient...
And that is when I wonder... is it really worth it?

In spite of.../ A pesar de...

A pesar de ser decepcionada, sigo adelante.

A pesar de los palos en las ruedas, me levanto y continúo.

A pesar de... las mentiras, sigo creyendo.

... los silencios, te sigo escuchando.

... las distancias, te sigo amando.

... los malentendidos y desencuentros, te sigo esperando.

... los errores, sigo aprendiendo.

... el tiempo que pasa, sigo sintiéndome joven.

... las caídas, me levanto.

... los golpes y derrotas, no me rindo.

Porque la vida es, para mí, como un jardín de rosas... las espinas no pueden evitarse, pero qué lindo y reconfortante es que, a pesar de lo mucho o poco que podamos lastimarnos con ellas, podemos disfrutar del perfume de las flores!!!



In spite of deceit, I keep on.

In spite of how many times I might fall, I get up and continue.

In spite of ... the lies, I keep on believing.

... the silences, I can still hear you.

... the distances, I still love you.

... the misunderstandings, I am still waiting for you.

... the mistakes, I keep on learning.

... the time that goes by, I still feel young.

.... the defeats, I do not give up.

Because life is, for me, like a rose garden... the thorns cannot be avoided, but it is so nice and comforting that, in spite of how much or how little we might get hurt with them, we can enjoy the perfume of the flowers!

A thought/Una reflexión

"Keep going, even if everyone else expects you to give up".

"Sigue adelante, aunque todos esperen que te des por vencido".

Mother Theresa of Calcutta

My first pregnancy

Carrying on with what I was saying about becoming pregnant in my post of "A symptom my marriage...", the moment I learnt that I was expecting my first baby, I felt exhilarated. I was 35 years old, and had wanted to be a mother for so long already!

I was at home studying with some friends for a final exam we had at university. I had not been feeling too well for the past few weeks... so that one of them rushed to the drugstore at the corner of my house and bought one of those tests one can carry out at home to find out... I was a little reticent at first, saying I was just nervous because of all the exams we had to prepare. But after some talking and nagging, I was sent off to the bathroom and told what I was supposed to do. In the meantime, my three friends kept their ears on the bathroom door, hoping to hear me say something!
I walked out a few minutes later... and handed the strip over to the expert of the group... who saw the two lines clearly depicted on it!!!! We were all extremely happy so that we dropped our books and notes and went out to celebrate.

But all this happiness would not last too long... when my ex got back home from... who knows where from ... I told him I had a great piece of news for him. Before I could say anything he said... "You are pregnant. right? Who is the father?" Imagine my surprise when I heard those words, after all the different situations I had imagined of how I would break the news to him, how he would react, how happy we would both feel... and the asshole had chosen to be funny and make a joke about it!!!!!! As if it could be considered as a joke!
When I ran out of the livingroom where we were sitting, crying my eyes out, he said it had just been a joke, that he knew I was pregnant, had sensed it. And that he knew only too well that I was as faithful as could be, that he knew it was his baby... but whatever he said was never enough to take away the pain I felt at the moment nor to erase the scar his words had left.

Since that day, and throughout my pregnancy, although he pampered me quite some and was around the house a bit more, he never once came with me to the doctor when I had my check-ups. He didn't want to attend the famous course on how to accompany me through delivery...
We had our differences as regards what name we would give our firstborn... he never liked any of the names I chose, there was something bad with each one of them... so eventually we decided that if it was a girl he would choose the name and if it was a boy the choice would be mine.

And, in spite of not being with me at all the important moments of the pregnancy, he was there when our baby was born... a beautiful, redcheeked, blonde baby girl!!!!!

Y me contaron...

... en un mail que me mandó un amigo que trata de mantenerme actualizada sobre tooodo lo que sale publicado acerca de la educación de los hijos en estos tiempos violentos que corren, que es muy importante que aprendan a manejar las broncas, el enojo, la impotencia ante las injusticias.

El artículo era realmente interesante, y hablaba sobre cómo debemos sentarnos con ellos, hablarles y explicarles que cuentan con nosotros si necesitan compartir lo que les está pasando. Que debemos darles las herramientas necesarias para que "caminen", "corran" o hablen el enojo, en lugar de gritar, pegar o insultar.

Todo muy lindo hasta acá... en la teoría es magnífico pero en la práctica se complica. Ya que como adultos, quién de nosotros sabe realmente manejar el enojo??? Quién se sienta y lo habla con quién lo hizo enojar? Quién jamás grita, putea ni le dan ganas de llevarse al que lo hizo enojar y darle para que tenga, ya sea con gritos o a golpes? El que esté libre de pecado que tire la primera piedra!!!

La sociedad en la que vivimos, el ritmo enloquecedor en el que nos movemos diariamente, hacen que no podamos manejar TODAS nuestras emociones en forma adulta y adecuada a cada circunstancia. Por ejemplo, si viajás en el subte todos los días y estás cansada de ver cómo los "cacos" se hacen la América con un rato de trabajo metiendo mano donde no debieran, llega un momento en que, como la ley no hace nada... te les tirás encima y los empezás a insultar, aunque no te hayan estado robando a vos. Bueno, quizás no todos estén tan hartos de esto como yo... así que no lo harían aunque yo sí lo hice! Desubicación total la mía!!!!

Y en la vida diaria nos enfrentamos a miles de actitudes de otros que nos enojan, y las peores son las de aquellos que amamos y nos hieren... entonces, en mi caso, muchas veces elijo ignorar la ofensa, como si nunca hubiera ocurrido, aunque no estoy segura si eso es tan bueno tampoco.

Así que a manejar el enojo y la bronca y a sonreirle más a la vida!!!!!

And life goes on...

... as it has always done and will always do.

I have heard myself speaking these words out loud so many times, both for others as well as for myself, because life surely does goes on.

Even though I get hurt... life goes on.

In spite of ... the pain caused by the death of a family member or a very close friend,

... deceit and rejection,

... madness and insecurity of a dear one,

... not being loved in return,

... being accused unfairly,

... sadness which is so close to depression,

... lies and make-believe relationships...

LIFE GOES ON!

Because there are people in my life who:

• need me on a daily basis
• love me for what I am
• believe in my word and in me
• care dearly for me and what I stand for
• do not need to justify themselves for their mistakes
• do not ask for explanations if I am mistaken
• let me be, not telling me how to live my life
• are honest, trustworthy and crystal-clear... just as I am.

For all those whom I mean so much to and who mean as much to me... life goes on!!! And a beautiful life it is!!!!

Who should I believe?

Who should I believe... him or the people around me and what they say about him?

What should I believe... the words he spoke, or what I read somewhere about them talking and possible promises?

... what he has told me more than once, or what I read and her interpretations of a future together?

... what he said about hardly ever being online, or her words which say they meet online regularly?

... what my heart says or what my mind does not want to believe as true?

... my feelings or the facts around me?

... what he told me is true... or what I think I see around me?

Shit! Why... is loving and wanting to be happy so difficult?
... do her words hurt so much?
... does his being so cold make my heart ache?
... do I believe everything I read?
... can't he speak out clearly about what is really going on, instead of saying I am one of the few people who REALLY know almost everything about his life?
... can't I let go and allow both of us to be happy on our own separate paths? and should I do so?
... do I love him so much I only believe HIS words and no one else's?

As I once wrote to him last year when he was being influenced by what he heard and was being told... listen to what your heart has to say and don't believe everything you read and hear... I should do the same now!
But it is hard when he writes talking about these people who have talked about me... because he has believed them more than me... only listening to the version of those who naturally would like to have him for themselves, in a selfish and destructive manner...
so much to think about, and yet so many feelings that do not allow me to do so...

One of those days...

Today has been one of those days... the ones in which you know, the moment you wake up, that disaster might happen. Being such a sensitive person, I knew that the day would be developing in the most unfavourable way. And it did... so damn my f****** sense of "feeling" this type of things!

To begin with, the school bus was late to pick up Sol for school... well, the driver said they came by the house at 7.05 as they do every morning and nobody came out, which naturally is not so, as we were both sitting on the front lawn and looking at the new plants I had put in the previous weekend and listening to the early birds singing long before 7 am. So after some quarrelling and begging, the driver agreed to come and pick up my eldest daughter after he had finished his round, though he was not too happy about it.

Then, when I was doing the laundry, the washing machine went beserk... and then just stopped working! This meant calling the service guy, arranging for him to come ASAP... he cannot make it before the next 6 or 7 days... what does that mean?? He HAS to come sooner! So again, some more quarrelling and begging... and I was able to arrange for him to come on Monday, some time during the morning.

Next, when I was preparing the little one, Sophia, for school, she slipped in the bathtub that moment in which I just turned around to get the towels to take her out... it was just a fraction of a moment... and boom... terrible crashing of her little body against the bottom of the bathtub, which by now, naturally, had no more water in it! So off we ran to the hospital, to make sure she was ok... and she was, my sweet angel, a little bruised but not much more. I told her she would be staying at home with me in the afternoon but she started crying, saying she wanted to go to the club with her friends. As the doctor who saw her said she was ok, I let her go. We had lunch at a restaurant and then I took her to the kindergarten myself, which she loved, as she also goes by bus... so imagine, my mommie has brought me to school today!!!!

By the time all these little "problems" had been dealt with, it was way too late to go to school to work myself. So I phoned and took the afternoon off.

It was a beautiful sunny day today, so I decided to work on my laptop in the back garden, basking in the sun and getting on with the writing of my second novel... this one in English. Nothing could go wrong now... or could it? Well... it did. The person I keep closest to my heart, who is abroad at the moment, sent me an email and not a very pleasant one. The moment I saw the addressee, I was all smiles and happiness, but as soon as I opened it and started reading it, the smile on my face was smacked out with an awful blow. The words in themselves are not important right now... but the message is what counts. This person whom I love dearly just didn't know who I was, what I was worth... and that is what hurt the most... learning that whom I thought was my knight in shining armour had no idea whatsoever who I was!!! So... how could he not know that it wasn't ME deceiving him, but the ones going around with stories? I immediately answered his mail... and soon enough had an answer from him... and to be honest, though he said he didn't want to make an issue or a long story out of this, I didn't even take the time to answer again. What is the use of it if he has no idea who the people around him are? Why waste words which he will not understand, as blind as he is at the moment? I am only hoping that maybe one day, when we meet again in what... months, years?... we will be able to talk about this... and he will truly see who is trustworthy and reliable and who is not.

In the meantime... I will just have to wait. I know I did nothing wrong, except maybe falling in love with the wrong guy, someone who certainly does not deserve to have me in his life... or does he?

Only time will tell... but there was something valuable about all this... I have learnt to say what I need to say, so thank you my love... and THANK GOD THIS DAY IS OVER!!!!!!! (almost... hehehe)

TGIF!!!!

Thank God for Fridays... that day of the week we all look so much forward to. I am tired at this time of the year... guess we all are!

There is just so little more to go before school breaks up for the summer holidays... and still sooo much to be done in such a short time! My students have their final exams during the following two weeks, and they have started getting desperate about not having enough marks to pass... now they are all of a sudden in a hurry to prepare extra lessons, to show how very much interested they are in their lessons at school, what good students they are, how much they have improved, how much they deserve to be given the chance (still another one after all those given to them during the year!) of having an extra exercise or test... and this is also going on at home, as my eldest daughter also has her finals at school, which certainly means getting home and giving her a hand. So I am rushing at school with my students' queries, giving extra lessons to my private students who need to be prepared for their exams, and getting home and teaching Sol what she does not understand... and this is the time of the year when, in spite of the passion I feel for my profession, I wish I was not a teacher, that I could say I am ...

As human beings, we tend to take on too many projects or activities in life, some of them all going on at the same time. And meeting deadlines gets tough sometimes... so what is it with us that we keep on accepting more and more challenges and responsibilities on a daily basis? Is it a consequence of our trying to prove ourselves, is it that there is no possible way of NOT doing so...? Why live on the fast lane all the time, when we could be living much more happily if we took life one step at the time?

As regards me, I know that in spite of how much I tried to live on the slow lane, I have on my back too many responsibilities which I do not share with anyone (because my daughters' dad is absent from their lives, because I have no one to share them with, and also because it is what life has brought my way... so that they cannot be shared). Just wish I could learn to take it more easily... that I could put less passion into everything I do, because though it gives me immense pleasure doing it that way, so much giving also leaves one exhausted and drained...

Too much stress, so many things to do... but TGIF !!!!!!

Am I growing old...?

Am I growing old? This is a question that has been bugging me lately.
My face shows a few more wrinkles than last year... could it be that I am growing old? No, it´s because I smile so much and am so expressive in my talk.
My arms and hands seem to have more freckles on them... am I growing old? No, it´s because I am spending so much time outdoors, in the sun.
I seem to have some white hairs pushing among my naturally curly auburn hair, am I growing old? No, 44 years of age is high time to start getting a few white hairs, right?
I don´t seem to enjoy late nights as much as I used to. Am I growing old? No, I wake up too early in the mornings and work all day...
My eyesight is troubling me. I have never had to wear glasses... could I be growing old? No, I do too much reading and writing... that´s it.
I have always loved doing gardening and enjoying the beautiful Argentinean spring days outdoors. Last Saturday I worked for 6 hours in my back garden, and the following day I was aching all over... could I really be growing old? No, I just did a bit too much, and left nothing of the hardest work for the gardener to do...
And above all... I am NOT growing old, as growing old will be by your side...