"A sigh between two eternities"
We are just children playing at being great and when the relative "greatness" of adulthood comes, we look at our grown hands, our bigger and more tired feet and yet we still see ourselves as the children we were and always will be in the depths of our hearts, because childhood is not just a stage, childhood is a state of grace, although we do not realize it.
Being children, our being needs nothing more than mysteries to be discovered and thrown down the slide of amazement, that which creates in us innocence and the spirit of expansion before the wonderful simplicity of life.
I think we are born where and with whom we are born by innate choice. Our growth as human beings is a stage that is repeated on different occasions, as required by the advancement of our soul. Therefore, we are somehow familiar with the rest of our family nucleus.
I was born in Yaguaraparo, a small town in eastern Venezuela. I am the third of five siblings. I was preceded by a boy and a girl and followed by two boys.
As a child, I was precocious. I opened my eyes to the world around the age of three, living in a neighboring town that offered me the beautiful vision of a full sea in the afternoons when the tide was rising: the Gulf of Paria in Irapa. Since then, my spirit fell in love with the sea.
I have such clear and beautiful memories of that time. The Commando in front of the beach, the house, my father listening to German military marches, conducting an imaginary orchestra with his eyes closed, lying on his divan in the room where he had a record player. He had exquisite musical tastes that were foreign to his environment, and I admired him even more for that. My father is still my center, although flew high into another space nineteen years ago. He was military, tough and loving at the same time and for the three-year-old girl, in love with the sea and her life in Irapa, her hero.
I was an impetuous child. I got a scar on my right ankle, made in those days, because I got on a bicycle driven by a cousin of my father's, who was flirting with some girls walking on the sidewalk, without him noticing and my foot got stuck between the spokes and the pinion of the rear wheel, causing a painful and alarming wound because of the blood spilled, but without serious consequences.
When I was five, I went back to my hometown. I remember clearly the exciting move, a new world was opening up before me. My mother gave birth to her fifth child, a beautiful very white baby with deep gray eyes. A baby that I loved, but that did not belong to our litter because the first four siblings were born in continuous years and he was born four years after of the latest.
I really liked the school. I was an accomplished student and a superhero girl who defended her classmates from abusive jokes. Once, I accidentally stuck the tip of a pencil in the eyelid of the girl I was defending. I remember that I was in second grade and I was struggling with a boy to get my friend's pencil back without realizing that she had gotten behind me. I was just a child, but I understood that I was lucky not to have taken her eye out. I think that's what marked my retirement from the world of superheroes.
Then I became lonely. I spent hours fantasizing in bed, playing at being big. I became interested in women's flirtations, without any weapons to get into that war because my mother didn't use cosmetics, nail polish or lipstick, so I had to invent things on the sly.
I would wrap myself in the sheets to paint my nails with merthiolate or iodine, I would paint my lips with crayons and if I had to be a doctor, I inject the pillows with my mother's reusable injector. It was a hard time for her, as she had to remove the stains from the sheets as best she could after my manicure session and expose the pillows to the sun. Oh, I forgot, I was also a singer in front of the fan and my father would record my songs on his little player, proudly...
At that time, I had an imaginary friend called "Olencia", she accompanied me in my "big" mischief and taught me things that I did not know. She wasn't a child, she was an adult. She appeared in the shadows. She would come out of the wall and go that way. She was an open book to me, an instructor or teacher from another world who, for some reason, always came to me, not only to guide me in some learning with talks and readings, but to protect me.
I never played with dolls, that was left to my older sister and the ones that were given to me, I gave them up for adoption. Instead, I dedicated myself to writing love letters to enchanted princes, poems and short stories that I didn't show to anyone, they were only for my consumption and my dreams of the future.
I spent a lot of my free time touring the streets of my town on two wheels. My older brother's bicycle was quite busy at that time because it served four brothers, although I was the most fanatical and risky. I climbed tall fruit trees: guavas, mangos, almonds, pomalacas. I loved to eat the fruits directly from the plant.
We were not allowed to go out with relatives or strangers, only with the family, but when I went to rivers and beaches with my parents, I gave them more work than my brothers because I liked to dive into deep pools, to swim far into the sea.
I'm still like that. But at that time, I was just a child learning that time is fast and "my existence, a sigh between two eternities".
"Un suspiro entre dos eternidades"
Somos sólo niños jugando a ser grandes y cuando la "grandeza " relativa de la adultez llega miramos nuestras manos ya crecidas, nuestros pies más grandes y cansados, pero seguimos viéndonos como los niños que fuimos y que siempre seremos en el fondo de nuestros corazones, porque la niñez no es sólo una etapa, la niñez es un estado de gracia, pero no nos damos cuenta.
Siendo niños, nuestro ser no necesita nada más que misterios por descubrir y lanzarnos por el tobogán del asombro, ése que nos crea la inocencia y el espíritu de expansión ante la maravillosa simplicidad de la vida.
Pienso que nacemos dónde y con quiénes nos corresponde por elección innata. Nuestro crecimiento como seres humanos constituye una etapa que se repite en distintas oportunidades, según lo requiera el avance de nuestra alma. Por eso, de alguna forma estamos familiarizados con el resto de nuestro núcleo familiar.
Nací en Yaguaraparo, un pequeño pueblo del oriente de Venezuela. Soy la tercera de cinco hermanos, me antecedieron un varón y una hembra y me siguen dos varones.
Como niña, fui precoz. Abrí los ojos al mundo alrededor de los tres años, viviendo en un pueblo vecino que me ofreció la hermosa visión de la mar plena en las tardes cuando la marea sube: el golfo de Paria en Irapa. Desde ese entonces, mi espíritu se enamoró del mar.
Tengo recuerdos tan claros y hermosos de ese tiempo... El Comando frente a la playa, la casa, mi padre oyendo marchas militares alemanas, dirigiendo una orquesta imaginaria con los ojos cerrados, recostado en su diván en la estancia donde tenía un tocadiscos. Él tenía gustos musicales exquisitos y extraños para su entorno y yo lo admiraba aún más por eso. Mi padre sigue siendo mi centro a pesar de haber pasado a otro plano hace diecinueve años. Era militar, recio y amoroso al mismo tiempo y para la niña de tres años, enamorada del mar y de su vida en Irapa, su héroe: respetado por su temperamento fuerte y amado por su figura y amable temple.
De ese tiempo, me quedó una cicatriz en el tobillo derecho porque yo era muy inquieta y aprontada: me lancé a la bicicleta en marcha conducida por un primo de mi papá, quien coqueteando con unas chicas que caminaban por la acera, no se percató que yo me monté en un accesorio trasero de la bicicleta y mi pie se atascó entre los rayos y la piña de la rueda trasera, causando una herida dolorosa y alarmista por la sangre derramada, pero sin graves consecuencias.
A los cinco años, volví a mi pueblo natal. Recuerdo con claridad la emocionante mudanza, un mundo nuevo se abría ante mí. Mi madre dio a luz su quinto hijo, un hermoso bebé blanquísimo, de profundos ojos grises. Una criatura que me encantaba, pero que no pertenecía a nuestra camada porque los primeros cuatro hermanos nacimos en años continuos y él nació cuatro años después del último.
La Escuela me gustaba mucho. Fui una estudiante aventajada y una niña superhéroe que defendía a sus compañeras de las bromas abusivas. Una vez, sin querer , clavé la punta de un lápiz en el párpado del ojo de la niña a la que defendía. Recuerdo que estaba en Segundo grado y luchaba con un niño por recuperar el lápiz de mi amiga sin darme cuenta que ella se había colocado detrás de mí, con el forcejeo logré arrebatarle el lápiz, pero la pinché con la punta que se quebró y no causó un daño mayor. Era sólo una niña, pero entendí que tuve suerte de no haber sacado su ojo. Creo que eso fue lo que marcó mi retiro del mundo de las superhéroes.
Entonces, me volví solitaria. Pasaba horas fantaseando en la cama, jugando a ser grande. Me interesé por las coqueterías de mujer, sin ningún armamento para entrar en esa guerra porque mi madre no usaba cosméticos, ni esmaltes para uñas, ni pintalabios, así que me tocaba inventar a escondidas. Me envolvía en las sábanas para pintar mis uñas con merthiolate, mercurio cromo o yodo, me pintaba los labios con creyones y si me tocaba ser doctora, inyectaba a las almohadas con la inyectadora reusable de mi madre. Fueron tiempos duros para ella, pues tenía que desmanchar, lo mejor que podía, las sábanas, luego de mi sesión de manicura y exponer al sol las almohadas. Ah! Se me olvidaba, también era cantante frente al ventilador y mi padre grababa mis canciones en su pequeño reproductor, orgulloso...
Por ese tiempo tenía una amiga imaginaria llamada "Olencia", me acompañaba en mis travesuras de "grande" y enseñaba cosas que yo no conocía. No era una niña, era adulta. Aparecía entre sombras. Salía de la pared y por allí se iba. Era un libro abierto para mí, una instructora o maestra de otro mundo que, por alguna razón, venía sienmpre a mí, no sólo para guiarme en algunos aprendizajes con charlas y lecturas, sino para protegerme.
Nunca jugué con muñecas, eso lo dejaba a mi hermana mayor y las que me regalaban, se las daba en adopción. En cambio, yo me dedicaba a escribir cartas de amor a príncipes encantados, poemitas e historias cortas que no les enseñaba a nadie, eran sólo para mi consumo y mis sueños de futuro.
Más adelante, me interesé por los paseos en bicicleta, volviéndome fanática de ellos. Pasaba mucho de mi tiempo libre recorriendo las calles de mi pueblo en dos ruedas. La bicicleta de mi hermano mayor tenía bastante trabajo por ese tiempo porque servía a cuatro hermanos, aunque yo era la más fanática y arriesgada. Me subía en árboles frutales altos: guayabas, mangos, almendrones, pomalacas. Me encantaba comer las frutas directamente de la planta.
A nosotros, no se nos permitía salir con familiares o extraños, solo con la familia, pero cuando iba a ríos y playas con mis padres, les daba más trabajo que mis hermanos porque me gustaba lanzarme en aguas profundas y nadar lejos en el mar.
Aún soy así... Pero en aquellos tiempos, sólo era una niña aprendiendo que el tiempo es veloz y "mi existir, un suspiro entre dos eternidades".
Girl by Javier-Rodriguez in Pixabay
20/06/2020
The phrase highlighted in quotation marks belongs to Father Alberto Hurtado
In response to @zord189 in Hive Creative Contest | Just a Kid(Contest Details)
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