Originally written in Spanish, translated into English by one of my closest childhood friends, Andrea del Carmen Castillo. ¡Gracias, amiga!
This story begins in a rocking chair, on those beautiful and intense first days of a new mother, father, and grandparents when a space opens up in the home and the heart to welcome a newborn child. From the chair we move down to the floor, where we let the babies move around, crawl, and get strong. Soon we find ourselves holding their tiny hands while they’re learning to walk and, when they do, we remain close by but far enough to let them feel independent. “I want to see this, see that, touch this, touch that…” “Mom, don’t hold me, I can do it alone.” “What happens if I put this in my mouth?” “What’s that up there?”
Then comes a strong wave of activities: school, friends, notebooks, classes, rainy days, plays… And every now and then, a fever and perhaps a couple of stitches. Our cars turn into taxis with drivers oddly curious about their passengers’ stories, and we get question after question after question…
Those are some good years, and we think they’ll last forever, but they don’t.
Shortly after, things start changing, and we witness the beginning of a silent good-bye: a season where everything stings, a phase of deeper reflection, silence, and moments when they feel like strangers to us. The conversations in the taxi are reduced to isolated exchanges like:
‘How was your day?’
‘Fine.’
Silence.
Of course there are also those sudden bursts of emotion tied to their life experiences, which they sometimes share and others don’t. In this teenage stage, you’re moved when, from certain angles, you can still catch a glimpse of their childhood faces; those faces that used to smile at you as if you were the best part of their day… because you were.
The beautiful chaos that weaves into our lives keeps moving along, leaving behind the most pleasant memories, the most horrible scares, the deepest love… and a few forgotten toys. And you? You let them go, hoping they’ve learned to trust themselves and become their own best friends.
What will remain is the memory of holding them in your arms in the dark before dawn—when the rest of the world is sleeping—so intimate, so simple, so yours… The motion of the rocking chair going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth as you sang the sweetest songs, breathing softly above their heads until they fell asleep.
And despite the passing of time, these moments stay with you forever.