Beating hopelessness
─Aló, brother, how are you! -I immediately ask him. His voice does not sound cheerful. From a distance I can feel his sadness.
─Well. Here resting. I don't have any work today," he says pretending to yawn. Then, without giving me a chance to ask him again, he interrogates me- And how are you?
─Fine - I answer as he does, in a single monosyllable, afraid to say anything else. A silence envelops us for a moment, but it seems like a long time has passed. I hear the voice from the other side asking me again:
─And mother? -I tell her that she is at the cemetery, that for months now, mother has taken the habit of going on Sundays to bring flowers to father. I don't tell her that mom still cries, that every day she sighs more, as if with each sigh her soul is relieved. I don't tell her that, although I think it. I just tell her that she is fine. After my words, silence returns. I feel that there are other words floating in the air, that remain in my throat, stuck, but that want to come out.
─It doesn't matter, brother. Around here, thank God, we don't lack anything. Don't worry, here we can solve -I hasten to say trying not to worry him.
─What about mom's medicines, -he asks in an anxious manner.
─They paid me some money and I bought her all the treatment. She has about a month's worth," I lie cheekily as I look at the empty basket of pills. I hasten to add so as not to worry him, "I'm not telling you she goes to the cemetery every Sunday. Mom is fine, thank God.
─Mom told me you were working online ─ How have you done with the light and the internet, if every now and then they go away?
─It's gone less -I lie again so as not to worry him- And if it goes away, I solve. Even, I told mom to tell you that if you wanted to come, we can send you money to come back -I comment and wait for her sincere answer: I fear that my brother is in another country without wanting to be. Silence returns and I feel my brother tidying up the bitter grass of his ideas:
─That's good, brother! Anyway, you know you can come back whenever you want. -I try to tell him, but at that moment lightning strikes and the light goes out, as well as the internet. I remain mute looking at the cell phone, wishing that my brother had heard my last words and knows that if he doesn't achieve his dreams, he can come back. Just then the door opens and my mother and sister come in. A second later, the storm begins.
─For a change! Now no light and no internet! -expresses my mom resignedly- How are you going to do with the work you were supposed to hand in?
─Don't worry, mom, I'll solve -I affirmed trying to be optimistic. The light and the internet would not be to blame for me giving up on my dreams. If my brother was fighting for his dreams, I would too.
The images are free to use and the text is of my authorship, translated in Deepl.
UNTIL A FUTURE STORY, FRIENDS
Click here to read in spanish
Ganarle a la desesperanza
Es domingo por la mañana y ha comenzado a caer una garúa. Mi madre y mi hermana han ido al cementerio a ponerle flores a la tumba de mi padre. Yo no he ido porque debo trabajar en internet y hacer la comida. Antes de sentarme detrás de la computadora, reviso la alacena y es poco lo que queda: tal vez haga un arroz con algunos vegetales para almorzar, pienso. El estómago me gruñe y lo aplacó con un café frío. En la radio dicen que se prevé lluvia fuerte. Pienso en mi madre y mi hermana que están fuera de casa y que pueden enfermarse si se mojan. En eso suena el celular. Miro y es mi hermano que está en otro país desde hace cinco años:
─¡Aló, hermano, cómo estás! –le pregunto inmediatamente. Su voz no suena alegre. Desde la distancia puedo sentir su tristeza.
─Bien. Aquí descansando. Hoy no tengo trabajo- dice simulando un bostezo. Luego, sin darme chance a preguntarle nuevamente, me interroga- ¿Y tú cómo estás?
─Bien- respondo como él, en un solo monosílabo, con temor a decir otra cosa. Un silencio nos envuelve un instante, pero parece que transcurriera mucho tiempo. Escucho la voz desde el otro lado que me pregunta nuevamente:
─¿Y madre? –le digo que está en el cementerio, que desde hace meses, mamá ha tomado la costumbre de ir los domingos a llevarle flores a papá. No le digo que mamá aun llora, que cada día suspira más, como si con cada suspiro se le aliviara el alma. No le digo eso, aunque lo pienso. Solo le digo que está bien. Luego de mis palabras, vuelve el silencio. Siento que hay otras palabras que flotan en el aire, que se quedan en la garganta, atoradas, pero que quieren salir.
─Me quedé sin trabajo, hermana –suelta y me doy cuenta que son aquellas palabras las que apremiaban por brotar. Antes de que pueda responder, mi hermano sigue hablando- Pero ya mañana voy a una entrevista de trabajo. Estoy seguro que voy a quedar, dice entusiasmado, pero luego afirma triste- Lo malo es que no voy a poder enviar dinero por un mes- intenta explicar atropelladamente.
─No importa, hermano. Por acá, gracias a Dios, no nos falta nada. No te preocupes, aquí podemos resolver –me apresuro a decir intentando no preocuparlo.
─¿Y los medicamentos de mamá?, -pregunta de manera inquieta.
─A mí me pagaron un dinero y le compré todo el tratamiento. Tiene como para un mes –miento descaradamente mientras miro la cesta vacía de pastillas. Me apresuro a agregar para no preocuparlo- No te digo que va todos los domingos al cementerio. Mamá está bien, gracias a Dios.
─Mamá me dijo que estabas trabajando por internet. ¿Cómo has hecho con la luz y el internet, si a cada rato se van?
─Se ha ido menos –vuelvo a mentir para no inquietarlo - Y si se va, resuelvo. Incluso, yo le dije a mamá que te dijera que si te querías venir, nosotras te podemos enviar dinero para que regreses –comento y espero su respuesta sincera: temo que mi hermano esté en otro país sin querer estar. El silencio vuelve y siento cómo mi hermano ordena el amargo pasto de sus ideas:
─No, hermana. Mi sueño es volver con dinero, que pueda montar un negocio, algo productivo con el que pueda ayudarme a mí y ayudarlas a ustedes, mi familia. Claro que voy a volver, pero solo cuando haya alcanzado estabilidad económica. Eso quiero. –expresó con cierta fuerza, de manera decidida, entusiasta.
─¡Qué bueno, hermano! De todas maneras, sabes que puedes volver cuando quieras. –intento decirle, pero en eso cae un rayo y la luz se va, también el internet. Quedo muda mirando el celular, deseando que mi hermano haya escuchado mis últimas palabras y sepa que si no logra sus sueños, puede volver. En eso la puerta se abre y entra mi madre y mi hermana. Un segundo después, comienza la tormenta.
─¡Para variar! ¡Ahora sin luz y sin internet! –expresó mi mamá resignada- ¿Cómo vas a hacer con el trabajo que debías entregar?
─No te preocupes, mamá, yo resuelvo –afirmé tratando de ser optimista. La luz y el internet no serían los culpables de que abandonara mis sueños. Si mi hermano estaba luchando por sus sueños, yo también lo haría.
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I love the resilient spirit of your brother. May his dream come into fruition.
In life, the last thing to lose is hope. Thank you for your comment. Regards
Difficult situations that make us fight even harder for the one we love. Always with faith that everything will improve and with a clear blue horizon.
Thank you for understanding your experience with us.
Good day.
In life you have to know how to put yourself in the other person's shoes, to understand, to understand, especially if you live in a family. Greetings
The last is hope but most times I just feel hopeless. It takes alot to put my shit together.
Never lose it. It's the only way to keep going. Greetings
A story that truly portrays a painful reality of our country (Venezuela) and how people have had to react to it, such as moving to another place in search of a better economic and work situation. Hopefully hope, in spite of everything, will remain. Best regards, @nancybriti1.
Behind every dream fulfilled, there is hope, the certainty that we can achieve things. Let's hope for better times. Greetings
Details about the mother's health issues, the brother's job uncertainty, and the unreliable electricity convey a tone of precarity. The imagery is vivid and immersive, from the cemetery visit in the rain to the "bitter grass" of the brother's thoughts. Feel like, Their love comes across as well-worn and deeply-rooted.
Thank you for such a complete commentary. You perfectly captured the "spirit" of the story. Regards
Lovely...
Simply lovely 😭❤️✨
!PIMP
Your resilience can be identified as consistency here...
Don't give up hope, even if luck may be small or lacking... There will be success✨
You must be killin' it out here!
@seki1 just slapped you with 1.000 PIMP, @nancybriti1.
You earned 1.000 PIMP for the strong hand.
They're getting a workout and slapped 1/1 possible people today.
Read about some PIMP Shit or Look for the PIMP District
Thank you so much for your beautiful comment and for the support. Regards
An indomitable spirit is something we can cling to; it’s as real as air, though, and needs affirmation that is embedded in reality. Your brother has enough hope to dream and that’s a wonderful sentiment.
I believe that one is alive as long as dreams and hopes exist. Without them, existence has no reason to exist. Thank you for your comment, friends