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To whom it may concern


My mom and dad stopped loving each other a long time ago. They have left their unresolved issues take over them, they have hid their pain  and regret deep inside their chests, and now they just can’t take it anymore. I have always thought their marriage was too complex for me to decipher and sometimes I think there is only a thin thread keeping them from falling apart.

When I think of home, I think of yellow and warmth. My parents have done an amazing job at creating a home; they had prayed together, they had stood by each other at difficult times (poverty and disease) but they have also done each other wrong.

I believe they’re more like friends now although I remember they once told me they had no friends; not real friends: “People usually aren't friends with each other; there isn't such a thing” -Mom said. “Not even Mr. A, our neighbor”-She pointed out. In my mind, Mr. A and his family were the closest example of loyal friends; or that I thought. “Not even him” I echoed amused. “People usually end-up deceiving you and you cannot trust them 100%”-Dad added.

My big sister was hearing everything from one corner in the living room and she kept supporting my parents by continuously nodding her head and eventually uttering a “yeah, you fool”. We were both 10 and 12 years old at the time.

Anyhow, at this point, I don’t know their status; not even at my 26s. What they have goes beyond mere partnership and co-existence. They are married and sometimes it looks as if they like each other even though they reproach each other every single mistake they have made throughout the years and the mistreatment received from one another. They are broken since many years ago but, they have given me a home; a warm and loving home, and a disciplined one too!

When I think of home, I think of yellow. They have given me yellow. They gave me shelter, faith, and peace and yet, they have not managed to make one fall in love with the other. But, isn't it love to wake-up at 4am and miss work to take the ill spouse to his/her doctor appointment? Isn't it love to travel long distances to be there at a long-awaited graduation? Isn't it love to have to put up with the spouse’s bad habits and manners?

From my parents, I have learnt that love is more than that. Words are love. Money and property are not. Discussing whether the owner is the one who pays or the one who signs the papers is not love. Not everybody loves, yet, everybody suffers. 

Now, my dearest friend, I want to love completely, as my parents told me God loves us all. I want to love as they loved and as they didn't love. Allow me to teach you how to love this way and I will allow you to teach me how to love in many other different ways.

PS: I do.

© 2013 Grecia Albornoz


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Contempla el paisaje Desde un despeñadero Al fondo del abismo Un río revuelto Por escamas y dientes Que se asoman  De vez en vez.   A sus espaldas El Gran Volcán El de la gran explosión De aquel día Cuando lo conoció Ahora duerme Pero bien sabe Que no duerme Solo espera.   Desde aquel despeñadero Respira la brisa  Joven y optimista Balanceando su cuerpo Sobre las puntas de sus pies Las ganas tan grandes de huir  Le ciegan.   Su volcán dormita Le permite existir Por ahora Pero el despeñadero le llama A dar un salto nada más ¿De valentía? Un salto a la libertad De una continua amenaza Por unos metros de caída libre Y un nunca jamás. © Grecia Albornoz 2021