Querida Madre,
Desde el primer momento que oí tu vos, mientras descansaba en tu vientre de amor, fuiste mi gia para estar listo a dentra a este mundo. Este mundo lleno de odio, amor, muriendose de hambre, lleno de paraisos, y con justicia contra la injusticia.
Pero miento, en realidad ya no puedo recordarme de tu vos del prinsipio. Tu vos de haora Madre, me da el sentido en seguir los pasos que me esperan en el pasillo de la vida.
¿Si te acuerdas de el pasillo en la casa de tu madre, mi abuela? Ese pasillo me presentó a mi cultura Colombiana, los sabores de tu comida, el calor de tus abrazos, el miedo de los gritos afuera de mi ventana en la madurgada, las balas que llagaron a nuestra puerta, el machismo hacia las mujeres pero nunca cuando era el tiempo de placer, pero mas importante la seguridad de mi familia.
Tu seguridad, alegria, y fuerza ah dibujado el camino que vamos caminando.
Me recuerdo cuando te fuiste de mi lado, pero por solo un segundo, para poder enseñar a tus hij@s una nueva vida. Me recuerdo verte despues de muchos meses sin saber que este era un nuevo pasillo. Este pasillo no ha sido facil, y nadie dijo que iva ser. Me recuerdo mi primer dia de la escuela en nuestra nueva vida, donde nadie hablaba mi idioma, y me sentia aislado. En esos tiempos lo unico que me hacia feliz era estar a tu lado. La unica manera de estar a tu lado era cuando corria en los pasillos donde trabajabas. Para mi eran pasillos de divertad y un sentido de escapar realidad. Pero en realidad eran los pasillos que limpiavas para darnos un hogar y comida. Me recuerdo cuando corria en los pasillos que limpiabas, y sin sentido no sabia que era lo que vivia en tu mirada. Pero haora si se que era, lo pude ver en tus ojos lo cansada que estabas y aunque en ningun momento te dejabas por vensida. Fueron muchos pasillos, muchas veses eran cinco a seis pisos llenos de laberintos que llevavan el sudor de tu trabajo duro.
Adaptar a una nueva vida no es facil, pero tu sudor y esfuerzo desde el primer dia demuestra la posibilidad en llegar a nuestros suenos. Quiero que sepas que cada amor y esfuerzo que tengo es por ti.
Esta pasillo no ha sido facil, pero tu nunca te as quejado y nos has enseñado el sentido de vivir. Me as enseñado que nuestras vidas esta conectada con cada accion que deseamos tomar. Tu decidiste tomar el pasillo mas duro, y en esa decicion as podido darnos el sueño y la major vida que una familia pueda tener.
Con orgullo y amor,
Tu hijo Sebastian
Este blog es parte de la organización Strong Families: Celebrando el día de las madres a nuestra manera. Usted podrá leer más mensajes sobre esta serie en el blog de Strong Families (Familias Fuertes)
Dear Mother,
From the first moment I heard your voice, while resting in your belly of love, you were my guide to entering this world—this world full of hate, love, starvation, full of havens and justice against injustice.
But I lie; I cannot recall your voice from then. Mother, your voice now has given me guidance to follow the steps in the hallway of my life.
Do you remember the hallway of your mother’s house, my grandmother? That hallway introduced me to my Colombian culture, the flavors of your food, to the warmth of your embrace, and to the fear of the screams outside my window past midnight, bullets at our doorstep, and machismo towards women, but never when it was time for pleasure—and, more importantly, to the safety of my family.
Your safety, joy, and strength have and continue to draw the path that we are walking.
I recall the moment you left me—but for only a second—in order to introduce your children to a new life. I remember seeing you after a few months, without knowing that this was a new hallway. This corridor has not been easy, and no one said that it would be. I remember my first day of school in our new life, where no one spoke my language, and I felt isolated. In those days the only moments that brought me happiness were the ones by your side. To be by your side, I strolled in the hallways where you worked. To me, these hallways granted me joy and an escape from reality. But these were the corridors that you would clean every night in order to give us food and a home. I would run in the hallways that you cleaned, without any sense of what lived inside your eyes. There were many hallways, at times five-to-six floors of mazes that carried the sweat of your work. But now I know, I can see in your eyes how tired you were—but there was never a look of defeat.
Adapting to a new life is not easy, but your sweat and effort demonstrates the possibility that we can reach our dreams. I want you to know something: know that all the love and effort I hold is from you.
This has not been an easy hallway, but you never complained and you have taught us the meaning of life. You’ve taught me that our lives are forever intertwined with every action we choose to take. You decided to take the longer corridor, but that has allowed our dreams to become reality, and it has allowed us a better life than any family could have.
With pride and love, your son,
Sebastian
Sebastian is a youth leadership advocate, social intrapreneur, book worm, documentary-film addict, and an YP4 alumni.
~*~
From the first moment I heard your voice, while resting in your belly of love, you were my guide to entering this world—this world full of hate, love, starvation, full of havens and justice against injustice.
But I lie; I cannot recall your voice from then. Mother, your voice now has given me guidance to follow the steps in the hallway of my life.
Do you remember the hallway of your mother’s house, my grandmother? That hallway introduced me to my Colombian culture, the flavors of your food, to the warmth of your embrace, and to the fear of the screams outside my window past midnight, bullets at our doorstep, and machismo towards women, but never when it was time for pleasure—and, more importantly, to the safety of my family.
Your safety, joy, and strength have and continue to draw the path that we are walking.
I recall the moment you left me—but for only a second—in order to introduce your children to a new life. I remember seeing you after a few months, without knowing that this was a new hallway. This corridor has not been easy, and no one said that it would be. I remember my first day of school in our new life, where no one spoke my language, and I felt isolated. In those days the only moments that brought me happiness were the ones by your side. To be by your side, I strolled in the hallways where you worked. To me, these hallways granted me joy and an escape from reality. But these were the corridors that you would clean every night in order to give us food and a home. I would run in the hallways that you cleaned, without any sense of what lived inside your eyes. There were many hallways, at times five-to-six floors of mazes that carried the sweat of your work. But now I know, I can see in your eyes how tired you were—but there was never a look of defeat.
Adapting to a new life is not easy, but your sweat and effort demonstrates the possibility that we can reach our dreams. I want you to know something: know that all the love and effort I hold is from you.
This has not been an easy hallway, but you never complained and you have taught us the meaning of life. You’ve taught me that our lives are forever intertwined with every action we choose to take. You decided to take the longer corridor, but that has allowed our dreams to become reality, and it has allowed us a better life than any family could have.
With pride and love, your son,
Sebastian
Sebastian is a youth leadership advocate, social intrapreneur, book worm, documentary-film addict, and an YP4 alumni.
This blog post is part of the Strong Families Mama’s Day Our Way celebration. You can read more posts in the series on the Strong Families blog. Strong Families is a national initiative led by Forward Together. Our goal is to change the way people think, act and talk about families.
No comments:
Post a Comment