Dedicated to my Dad
Objectively, the longest and most chronic terminal illness is life, after all, we all have to die. Whatever long or short, the path we follow in life leads to the graveyard. At least biologically. The clock is ticking and all we have is time.
Within that fortunate path of life, we may encounter other intermittent non-lethal illnesses, unfortunately, only time can cure those episodes, and we count the days until we feel better, in a way, that represents a wasteful effort of our most valuable asset = time. No wonder why we say that time cures everything, it also eliminates everything including life.
After all, we learn that the presence of pain is one of the major proofs of our own existence.
Sometimes we want to freeze or capture time and sometimes we want time to simply run fast…
It has been more than a month since I last wrote to you, and I apologize to write in English this time, but I want to share a letter I wrote about a year ago (in English), in which I expressed the importance of holding hands with my father when I was a little boy and how important is now to hold hands with my son and again I want to include some of my Houston friends.
One of the most touching events in life is the unfortunate scene of a suffering child, the following passage is real, and that is what dying children commonly do. Although really sad, I think that this can let us reflect and conclude that no matter how sad, hurt or in pain we feel, if we have time, then there is always some room for action.
The little angel was in a terminal stage. Enjoying his last moments, trying to finalize his last project, a big drawing of a butterfly for his parents.
That is what kids do when they know that they have just a few more days to live. They know that only the cocoon will be buried, and not the butterfly. Butterflies will take care of the parents.
Then he asked for his Dad’s hand, he could not see him anymore, he had lost his sight.
This little boy was a cancer patient. After hearing this story, I could not resist the desire to run to my son and hug him for hours and hold his hand too, now I have the time to take this action.
This is the letter that I told you before, I wrote this a year ago. At that time I did not have plans to go skiing with Bruno. Today I am with Bruno skiing…and I am giving him my hand.
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I have a number of hobbies and passions to say the least, (I am afraid) – one of those passions is to go through my specialized magazines and keep certain articles, images or advertisements in my binders – I do not know the reason [that] I keep them or collect them. Sometimes I think about what would be the reaction if a person finds those binders 400 years from now? Scary!!
Yesterday I found that I have about 200 magazines that I have not read. The perfect moment to catch up is between check-in at the airport and lunch in the plane. I brought with me about 30 magazines (Fortune, Latin Lawyer, Corporate Counsel, Houston Business Journal, Latin Finance, Executive Legal Advisor and others) and I also brought one Sunday Magazine from the New York Times dated March 4, 2007. The front page article reads: WHY DO WE BELIEVE? I was really interested in the article, so I left this magazine as the literature dessert, at the end; and as traditionally do it, I begin flirting with written materials; I started reading the last pages.
In the very last page, I found an emotional and cute short article about a retired lady in her mid fifties with college kids, she finds hard to connect with the world and specially with her kids, and after joining a ski team in Colorado, she connects again with one of her sons and after a ski trip, he confesses that he enjoys spending time with Mom.
I do not think this is new to anyone who has been through the cycle of child-parent relation, but it was entertaining and perfect for my solitude space while waiting for the take off.
This morning, like every other morning for the last 5 years and 6 months I was thinking how hard is for me to spend one day without seeing Bruno, or interacting with him. But most important, without hugging him, touching him, shaking his hand and playing a little wrestling, it is just very hard. So every time I travel, I really have to work hard on the challenge of being away from my Boy.
This waiting time is perfect for deep or profound thoughts, and made me go back in time about 33 years, when I was so close to my Dad and when I spent almost all my free time with him. If I was not at school, I was always with my Father, enjoying the shoe factory and the shoe stores. In my memories those 33 years seem like an instant, and is hard to imagine that after a bitty portion of such instant (33 years), I am here without my Father’s hand and maybe running out of time to connect with him like the lady of the article.
Perhaps maturity is based in the fact that we accept reality as it is and we keep a positive attitude looking forward and not trying to go back. My Dad is 69, I am almost 39 he is still there, but I cannot see him everyday, in fact – I can’t remember the last day I played with him and hugged him, like I do it with Bruno. There is one thing I can always remember: the sense of peace and security I felt when I was with him.
All these words, all these words are shared with you in appreciation
THIS IS PART OF THE THINGS I BELIEVE IN, I believe in the extraordinary group of people to whom I work and engage every day. [I truly believe in the importance of friendship, because without their support and motivation, I am nothing].