Читать книгу Fish Out of Agua: - Michele Carlo - Страница 13

Mija,

Amor,

Mi muñeca,

I love you. I love you with all my heart. I love you so much it hurts for me to write this to you. Even though I know you cannot read this yet, because you have just begun the escuela, still, I write this to you because I love you.

I write to you because these are the things I cannot tell you. It is very complicada, mija, and you cannot understand. Not now. Maybe not ever. But I am writing this anyway because at least you will know that I did try to explain and maybe that will make a difference someday. Maybe it will make some things better for you.

You, mi amor, are the only colorada in nuestra familia. You have the pecas of my mother of husband and the same big eyes that are questions, always questions for which there can never be an answer. And every time I look at you, I see the face, the skin, the eyes of Beltran, mi esposo verdad, the only man I loved. Will ever love. I also see him always, in your mother. And perhaps that is why I cannot. I did not. I have not.

Yes, Papa Julio is not your grandfather. But you will probably never meet Beltran; he was lost to us, to your mother and me many years ago. But Papa Julio is a good man, an honest man, a hard-working man. He brought your mother and me to this country so we could have a better life. Because we were sola. We owe him a lot. We owe him our lives. But I must also say the truth, Papa Julio is not the padre of your mother, and maybe that is part of why she is not feeling well now.

She is not well, mija. Your mother is not well and she has to go to the doctor. She has to live with the doctors so they can make her be well, and that is why you and your brother are coming here to live with Papa Julio and me but you don’t have to be afraid, in the name of ¡Gloria Jesus! you will not have to be afraid.

Life is complicado. So complicado. When you are older, you will see that life is hard for a woman. So hard. And you will see why certain things had to be a certain way. But now, you will be safe. I am your abuelita. I will watch you. I will protect you. I will do for you what I did not, could not do for your mother. And if you cannot forgive me, I hope you can at least understand.

No puedo escribir mas ahora. He is coming. Mija, yo te promeso, I will watch over you and project you. You are my muñecita, mi amor; I look at you and I remember.

Guárdenos, El Señor. Salmos 23, 27, 91, 121

Grandma Mari