Querido Felipe,

Querido Felipe/Phillippe/Pipo/Josefo/Felifoca/momentareamente Rodolfo,

Cuando desperté esta mañana creí que iba a ser un día como cualquier otro…viviendo un poco lo que es volver al hogar, a vivir con mis papas y contigo y Lola. Sin embargo, todo cambio sin previo aviso en un par de horas. Te pusiste muy enfermo y nos tocó dejarte ir. Sé que estás en un mejor lugar, sé que le harás compañía a Cris que te amo desde siempre y al que tanto amabas y cuidabas tu.

Quiero contar un poco de tu historia…antes de que llegaras! Cris todavía usaba pañales y yo estaba comenzando el colegio, y nos dio la piquiña de perro. Recuerdo que llenamos la casa entera de letrero de colores diciendo “Queremos un Perro” “Papi, por favor!” “Perro para la casa”, etc. Las pusimos en la tapa del inodoro, entre los cajones de la ropa, en las pantallas de los televisores…mejor dicho, por suerte en ese momento no tenia consciencia ambiental porque la cantidad de papel que utilizamos fue absurda. Pero papá estaba determinado que no quería perro…mas tarde entendí que no quería perro justamente porque los quería demasiado y no quería sufrir la perdida de un perro. Tristemente, unos años después, estaríamos viviendo otra muerte mucho mas inesperada que la de un perro.

Sin embargo, mamá te trajo una tarde cualquiera. Cris y yo estábamos en el balcón pequeño del Crillon cuando viniste corriendo hacia nosotros. La felicidad no te la imaginas, aunque creo que tu recuerdas. Eras un loco, corrías sin parar y te estrellabas contra las paredes. Cuando llegábamos del colegio nos tocaba pegarnos a la pared para que no nos tumbaras y sabíamos que no podíamos mirarte fijamente a los ojos pues nos brincarías encima a jugar (detalle que tu tía Pato tomo literal y casi se muere del miedo cuando te conoció).

Recuerdo en esos primeros años un momento en especial, fue en el comedor del apartamento en el Crillon, yo tenia como 7 u 8 años, y tu estabas acostado frente a la puerta de la cocina. Algo había pasado, creo que te habían regañado a ti o a mi, pero recuerdo fue sostenerte la cabeza, mirarte fijamente a los ojos y decirte al oído “te voy a cuidar y querer toda la vida, ok? Toda la vida, te lo prometo Pipo que siempre te voy a querer ”. Y así fue.

Aunque Papá repetidamente me recuerda lo poco que te cuide creciendo (tiene razón, era una peque y no entendía lo que implicaba cuidar un perro) o que Cris estaba mas pendiente (pues tu lo adorabas, Papá no podía ni jugar brusco con el sin que te metieras a defenderlo), yo siempre tuve ese momento en mi cabeza y en mi corazón. Estando en Colombia estos últimos años me hacías mucha falta y cada vez que me iba de Panamá lloraba al despedirme de ti pues ya estabas muy viejito y no sabia si te volvería a ver.

Hace unas semanas te enfermaste y fue el comienzo del final sin que nosotros lo supiéramos. Hoy amaneciste bien y decaíste muy rápido, estuviste convulsionando mucho al final y aunque no estabas adolorido pues la doctora me dijo que no dolía, no me gusto verte tan mal.

Quiero agradecerte tu compañía Pipo. Fuiste el mejor perro que alguien jamás podría tener: tierno, divertido, loco, chocho al final, fiel, amoroso, comelón y con una seria ilusión de ser humano. Haberte tenido en mi vida (casi toda mi vida! 18 de 24 años!) fue algo que definió quien soy hoy. Si no hubiese sido por ti estoy segura que no seria tan apasionada por los animales, no estaría haciendo el curso que estoy haciendo, no creería en el poder que tienen los perros y su compañía en las personas. Me enseñaste a querer sin prejuicios, a disfrutar de la vida y a tener derecho a ser jodida en algunas cosas (como tú con tu agua).

Hoy me voy a dormir extrañandote, y se que por mucho tiempo me va a hacer falta escuchar tu taconeo (aunque a los vecinos de abajo quizá no), el cling-cling de tu collar cuando caminas, los ladridos viniendo desde el baño para que te de agua, tu aliento de pescado y pedos asquerosos (bueno quizá eso no me haga TANTA falta), tenerte siempre al lado en la mesa del comedor, y sobre todo tenerte cerca y la felicidad y risas que nos causabas.

Te agradezco por haber estado ahí en los momentos mas difíciles, por haber tratado de ayudar a Cris cuando lo viste, por haber sido parte de mi vida y de haberme acompañado todo el camino.

Me alegra saber que hoy estas acompañando a Cris, que el te esta consintiendo y tu a el y que ahora tendremos a dos angelitos con nosotros.

Estoy feliz por saber que pude cumplir esa promesa que te hice hace tantos años, que te cuidamos y te dimos la mejor vida posible y sobre todo que siempre te amamos.

-Marian 

p.d - A Lola también le vas a hacer mucha falta, ya no tiene quien se le siente encima o le huela la cola ni a quien molestar para jugar.  

Letting it all out

Written Jan. 3, 2012

My brother died five years ago. It was November 9 2007, he was 14 years old, I was 19. It was a Friday afternoon, I was wearing greenish jeans, a knitted blue old navy sweater, my father had a red and orange plaid shirt, the towel they used to cover him was a mossy green, the moon was tiny and it seemed as if the night sky was smiling. I remember the car ride after we got the call, almost crashing a few times trying to run through Buenos Aires Friday rush hour traffic, I remember yelling at the paramedic woman to do something, I remember seeing my uncle and my cousin crying in the room, I remember sitting in my moms room hours later with her while they took the body down the stairs and having some weird laugh because a few weeks earlier we had carried up a library with my brother and joked about how carrying a dead body would be easier. I remember hearing my fathers friend telling me “you have to be strong, you have to be strong” when I sat behind the mini cooper holding my head in my hands and asking the world “why”. I remember the wounds I made in the palms of my hand, scratching myself until I had open wounds and kept picking on them, as if somehow that physical pain would make my pain go away.  

That night will never go away. The image of him lying there will be with me forever. Seeing my dad carry his coffin is something that broke my heart the deepest possible way. I learned what it was like to not be able to hold myself up from the grief, feeling like my knees were made of jell-o and literally gasping for air because I couldn’t breathe while crying.

Time gained a new meaning, everything was full of memories, riding a bike reminded me of him because we went riding the day before and he was teaching me how to jump (and I clearly fell and hurt my ankle horribly), driving a car hurt because I wasn’t able to teach him how to drive, playing tennis, eating French toast, Sunday mornings, nothing would ever be the same.

Christmas and New Years gained a new meaning, it wasn’t the amazing fun time anymore, there were tears shed every year and I think there always will be because those dates are a reminder of our uncompleteness.

 During five years I kept living, I went to university, I made friends, I had a life…but I still cried at nights, woke up with horrible nightmares, didn’t feel like myself, felt like there was something dragging me down – myself.

I’m not saying everything is perfect now and I don’t miss my brother. I will ALWAYS miss him and I have constant reminders of a whole life I had imagined that will never happen. I know I will never have nieces or nephews, that in my wedding day I won’t get to dance with him, that I’ll never meet his girlfriends, that I’ll never be able to travel with him.

During my time in South Africa I missed him so much. I imagined how this could have been OUR trip, how we could have had such a great time, met people, created memories, partied together!…but it was just that, imagination.

Instead, I was able to go back. To go back to me, the me that lived with him, the me that knew what she wanted out of life, that was strong, stubborn, confident. I don’t know what or how it happened but I feel I was able to come out of my grief during my trip, to really let go and go back to living my life and not letting that one horrible event define me or the choices I make. Yes, it will forever be with me and it has affected me deeply but it does not define me anymore, I wont let it.

Being in a new place, being forced to meet people, to do things, to get out of my head and simply enjoy was amazing. It feels as if I’m living in spring after a five year winter. I know that this wasn’t a magical thing that happened in three months, that it would have been impossible if it weren’t for what I lived in the past five years. I wouldn’t have able to make the decision to go, to grow, if it weren’t for the support and love I received during my “winter” time, if it wasn’t for my experiences during those years I would have never gotten to this point and now I can look back and be grateful for everything – the great, the good, the bad, everything I lived during the past five years got me to the point I am today and I am grateful for it. It's not that the past five years were dark or bad, I enjoyed them, I traveled, I loved, I lived, but I was holding myself back...I was getting in my way. 

Now, this year, this spring, its time to keep growing and to finally feel I can stand on my own two feet, that my knees are no longer made out of jell-o but wide and strong and able to mark my path in life, living, loving, enjoying. 
I admit, saying goodbye to the life I knew is harder than it seems, it hurts, I cry, I think about all the great moments I lived but missing something isn't the right reason to go back to it. I feel like I need to get out of my comfort zone and really reach out to try new things and go after all the possibilities that interest me. I need to tell myself It'll be good and that I can do this...I need to stay strong. 

Welcoming 2013

Written Jan 3, 2013

Spending these days in Moraleja have been amazing. The days are full of big breakfasts, delicious lunches and small warm dinners, huddling around the fire at night, play cards till midnight, go horseback riding, doing gardening, laying under the sun in the fields reading my books, “montando a columpio de vuelo” (sorry, no way to translate this one…it’s basically going on a kick ass crazy fun swing) and lots of thinking. Being completely disconnected from any phone or internet access is something I really enjoy. Sure, I’d love to be able to talk to some friends but in the end its only a few days and it just forces you to enjoy what’s around you, the people, the scenery, the animals, the silence.

Having traveled this year has made me so much more thankful and appreciative of my country and my upbringing. The scenery here is amazing! I’ve always known its beautiful but going away and seeing the amazing places I saw and then coming back makes me think and say, hey…this is just as beautiful! Its sad that I had to go away to be so appreciative of what I have but I guess that usually happens and the important thing is that it’s a lesson learned. In Panama I am so much more grateful for the ocean! I can actually go swimming in it for hours; its temperature is perfect year round! Here in Bogota I am so grateful for this piece of land in the mountain where I came and spent many weekends but I know could have enjoyed it so much more. I have been horseback riding the past few days and realize how much I enjoy It and how I could have done it so much more in the past.

Starting off 2013 here, completely disconnected and surrounded by beauty and family has been great. It’s like charging up batteries and forcing me to think about the attitude I want to have the upcoming year. It’s a new and challenging year, a year that begins with a hard decision taken and no matter how hard it is and will be I know it’s a year of learning, a year of living, enjoying, but mainly a year for growing, for getting to know myself from a different perspective, a year of spring!  

New Year, hello 2013!

Written January 2, 2013

As I’ve made it pretty clear before, I love my family and enjoy spending as much time as possible with them. Christmas and New Years is usually spent with my family, and although this year Christmas was spent in Panama without my whole family, New Years was a complete family affair – and its awesome.

We usually all go to a country house or beach house and this year was no different, spending 6 days at my aunts farm completely disconnected from the world. For the past 6 or 7 years we have had different New Year traditions and although the past five years New Years is an extra-difficult day and I wasn’t always too keen in taking part of these traditions, I am extremely grateful to have them.

The first of these events I remember was a HUGE fire we made where everyone threw in what they were leaving behind. After my brother died we did little “boats”. I’m going to do a little parenthesis to explain why these little boats: when Cris died his friends father sent us a beautiful letter and flowers. He explained his process after losing his wife and shared with us a short story he had read explaining death:

I am standing on the seashore, A ship sails and spreads her white sails to the morning breeze And starts for the ocean. She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her till at last she fades on the horizon, and someone at my side says “ she is gone”. Gone where? Gone from my sight that is all. She is just as large in the masts, hull and spurs, as she was when I saw her, and just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination. The diminished size, the total loss of sight is in me not in her, and just at the moment when someone at my side says “She is gone” There are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up the glad shout. “here she comes.” And that is DYING. -Bishop Brent

After reading this I received somewhat a bit of peace or tranquility and every New Years we light our boats to send them to him, loaded with love.

This year we didn’t have an ocean but we had a lake. So, clearly, one of the traditions was to light our boats and send them off. We did this after midnight, not all of the family went out because of the terrain and the weather it was impossible for my grandparents to make it and my uncle and aunt preferred to stay in as well. However, the rest of us all went out and it was great. It was freezing (literally) and didn’t help my cold but it is one of those little things in life that make me stop and be grateful for being surrounded by the people that make up my family. Yes, we are loud, we are mainly women, there will be moments of susceptibilities but in the end we all stick together.

The other tradition we have started four years ago, and although at first I didn’t even care about them or didn’t even stay up to celebrate the New Year because it was simply too painful, now I enjoy doing them. We all gather on the 31^st in the afternoon and do our Vision Boards, posters where we define what we want and what we will get out of the upcoming year. It’s forces you to really think about the upcoming year and the things you wish to do and obtain during the year. Off course during the year there will be surprises, heck I had NO idea I would spend ¼ of my year in Africa when I did mine last year but it still makes you think about time and life. We gathered up before midnight and everyone explained their vision board, I believe being able to say these things surrounded by people that love and support you will make them easier to accomplish, its always easier when people know what your plans are and can give you a little nudge or reminder when times are hard.

Doing these family rituals during New Years might seem boring to many, I have never ever celebrated New Years in some big party and don’t really yearn it. I like spending the holiday days with my family, there is no where else I rather be than surrounded by them and even though arguments might arise and everything isn’t perfect all the time I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Vision boards

Burning what we want to leave behind

With yellow underwear and my bagpack to welcome 2013, this year im traveling!

Going down to the lake...it was cold!

Last days of 2012 in Moraleja

Written Dec. 30, 2012

Moraleja is my aunt’s country house. It is located approximately an hour from Bogotá and its 3.100m above sea level. Many people I met during my time in South Africa were surprised to hear that Bogota was cold and so high up, well…this is higher, and colder and a million times more beautiful. Mountains, green lush vegetation, flowers, cows, horses, dogs, rivers, and no celphone signal, no internet, no iPhones, no Blackberrys, no Facebook. It’s a perfect place to disconnect, to start the new year with people that matter and no virtual distraction, it’s a perfect place to look inside, to get in touch with what matters.

Getting 12 people, 12 Borreros (my last name), 10 of them women (yea, its generic but I believe I can generalize when it comes to women being slow…its simply a fact of life in my family), to be ready and move them around is a hard task…Especially when we’re all on vacation mode and apparently feel no rush.

This morning we woke up late, had a big breakfast courtesy of my cousin Caro and uncle Josis (the family chefs). I went to pick up Martina who I hadn’t seen in over three months and missed terribly!

Marti is so well behaved! She Is still nervous around people she doesn’t know or when too much happens at once, but she is so calm now, does what’s told, and looks exactly the same! I missed her terribly and its been a hard day coming to terms with what her future might be, not being able to do anything about it simply upsets me.

After about two hours of packing, talking, planning, and god know what else, we were finally on our way to Moraleja (with a delicious burger stop for lunch).

Because there are so many of us it took three rides to get the whole gang up. I was in the first group with my cousin and grandparents. After three hours the second group arrived with the car FULL of grocery bags. When I mean FULL, I really do mean FULL! The bags covered the whole kitchen floor and counters, it was insane! When the last group finally made it up the chaos began, putting everything away, the chefs began to cook, we all started drinking some wine or whiskey.

And then, amidst the crazy loud chaos that is my family (even though we’re not complete), I thanked life. I love being part of this chaos, even if some are stressed, there is always someone in the group trying to lighten up the mood, someone is always laughing (LOUDLY), and everyone seems to be in their own little world but somehow these worlds connect and things work out.

Dinner was delicious, and now its play time! Mexican dominoes, widow (card game)…its gonna be a fun night.

Mexican dominoes!

My beautiful cousin