THE GIFT I DO NOT WISH TO HAVE // EL DON QUE NO DESEO TENER (ENG)(ESP)

Greetings friends of Hive, I have been surprised with my search for urban stories, common people that I see around me, each with their own individual world, but that I think and believe, should be transmitted, their experiences, their anecdotes, because whoever is interested in reading, will find something different and unique, I think not exaggerate, judge for yourselves.

Saludos amigos de Hive, me he sorprendido con mi búsqueda de historias urbanas, personas comunes que veo a mi alrededor, cada una con su propio mundo individual, pero que pienso y creo, deben trasmitirse, sus vivencias, sus anécdotas, ya que a quien le interese leer, encontrará algo distinto y único, me parece no exagerar, juzguen ustedes mismos.

Imagen de Gerd Altmann en Pixabay

I made friends with a person I will call Lucia (not her real name) little by little we got to know each other, one day when I arrived at her house I was invited to dinner, so I stayed for a while talking with her and her parents, what seemed like an everyday thing, became one of the greatest existential discoveries I have ever found.

Hice amistad con una persona que llamare Lucia (no es su nombre real) poco a poco entramos en confianza, un día que llegue de pasadita a su casa me invitan a cenar, por lo tanto me quedo un rato conversando con ella y sus padres, aquello que parecía algo cotidiano, se transformó en uno de los mayores hallazgos existenciales que he encontrado.

Imagen de Gerd Altmann en Pixabay

I think that whoever wrote the movie Sixth Sense, must have experienced something similar, or was inspired by a person like Lucia. It is my favorite film, but I always wondered why they didn't make the second part. At one point in our conversation, he told me about the gift he didn't want to have.

Pienso que el que escribió la película sexto sentido, debió vivir algo parecido, o se inspiró en una persona como Lucia. Es mi cinematografía preferida, siempre quede con la incógnita del porqué no realizaron la segunda parte. En un momento de nuestra conversación, me conto del don que no deseaba tener.

Imagen de darkosky en Pixabay

I sharpened my ears and believe me.... As the narrative flowed, her eyes got wet and my hair stood on end, she told about the many times she had seen dead people, something that for her was such a daily occurrence that she ignored them, but there are some who try to take her away at night and she is afraid of them.

The mother and father certified or complemented each anecdote, I regretted not having a tape recorder, because a filmmaker would undoubtedly make a great movie. I will try to structure sequentially his experiences through his life.

It all began when she was about three years old, she was already speaking fluently, her mother says that before she could walk she was already pronouncing words. They had a little neighbor about one year old, whom she called the little doll, she used to ask her parents for permission to play with him, so they formed a bond of friendship, the child got sick with measles and still played in clandestine escapades that she did, but she never got infected. One morning when he was sleeping in his hammock, he woke up and told his mother:

• The little doll died!.....
• How do you know that? Nobody has said anything, girl.
• They have him in a hospital with many hoses in his body, mom.

The anguished and surprised mother went to the neighbor to ask about the child and she told her that he was hospitalized, since he had become very complicated, they had him intubated with several tubes in his body, in other words, they have him with hoses all over his body, just at that moment she was going to take him diapers and other things to take care of him. In those years a cell phone did not exist, so emergencies had a different rhythm than today.

Agudice mis oídos y ¡Créanme!... A medida que fluía la narrativa, a ella se le humedecían sus ojos y a mí se me erizaban los bellos, conto las tantas veces que ha visto muertos, cosa que para ella era algo tan cotidiano verlos que ya hasta los ignoraba, pero existen unos que tratan de llevársela por las noches y a esos si les teme.

La mamá y el papá certificaban o complementaban cada anécdota, me arrepentí de no tener una grabadora, porque un cineasta haría una gran película sin lugar a dudas. Trataré de estructurar secuencialmente sus experiencias atravez de su vida.

Todo comenzó cuando tenía cerca de tres años de nacida, ya hablaba fluidamente, cuenta su madre que antes de caminar ya pronunciaba palabras. Tenían un vecinito de alrededor de un año de edad, al cual ella llamaba el muñequito, solía pedir a sus padres permiso para jugar con él, así formaron un lazo de amistad, el niño se enfermó con sarampión y aun así jugaban en escapadas clandestinas que ella hacía, pero nunca ella se contagió. Una mañana que dormía en su chinchorro, se levantó y le dijo a su mamá:

• ¡Se murió el muñequito!...
• ¿Cómo sabes tú eso? Si nadie ha dicho nada niña.
• Lo tienen en un hospital con muchas mangueras en su cuerpo mamá.

La madre angustiada y sorprendida va a que la vecina a preguntar por el niño y esta le dice que lo tiene hospitalizado, ya que se complicó mucho, lo tienen entubado con varias vías tomadas, dicho de otra manera lo tienen con mangueras por todos lados, justamente en ese momento iba a llevarle pañales y otras cosas para su cuidado. En aquellos años un celular no existía, por lo que las emergencias tenían un ritmo distinto al de hoy en día.

Imagen de Tammy Lee en Pixabay

In the afternoon Lucia was sleeping, after having taken her bottle, and suddenly she woke up telling her mother:

• Take me!.... To see the doll.
• Girl!... they have him in the hospital.
• No! They brought him in a little white box.
• How do you know that? The doors of our house are closed and there are no neighbors.
• They're here, Mom, take me.

They went and indeed the child had died, they were watching over his remains, when the girl was approaching the urn holding her mother's hand, she began to scream uncontrollably:

• Get me out of here, mom.

En la tarde Lucia dormía, luego de haberse tomado su tetero y repentinamente se levanta diciendo a su madre:

• ¡Llévame!... A ver el muñequito.
• ¡Niña!... lo tienen hospitalizado.
• ¡No! lo trajeron en una cajita blanca.
• ¿Cómo sabes tú eso? Las puertas de nuestra casa están cerradas y no están los vecinos.
• Ya llegaron mamá llévame.

Fueron y efectivamente el niño había muerto, estaban velando sus restos, cuando la niña se va acercando a la urna de la mano de su madre, comienza a gritar incontrolablemente:

• ¡Sácame! de aquí mamá.

Her mother says that her little girl saw something next to the urn that scared her a lot, we looked for an explanation and concluded that she saw death for the first time, but that is not clear in her memories, it is her mother who narrated this chapter of Lucia's life. The next day she asked to see him before they took him away, they lifted her up to look into the urn and she saw her first dead friend.

They made the funeral procession... Lucia was sleeping in her room and suddenly she woke up saying: "Mom, the little doll took me away from me:

• Mom the little doll took my jet.

(For those who do not understand what a jet is, it is a bracelet used long ago to protect children from the evil eye).

• Girl, that's not possible, he's not alive anymore.
• Yes! He hid in the garbage box.

Her older brother turned the box over and there was nothing, he called her crazy, they never found the jet...

Su madre dice que su niña vio algo al lado de la urna que la asusto mucho, buscamos una explicación de eso y concluimos que vio la muerte, por primera vez, pero eso no está claro en sus recuerdos, es la mamá que narro este capítulo de la vida de Lucia. Al siguiente día pidió irlo a ver antes que se lo llevaran, la alzaron para asomarse en la urna y vio a su primer amiguito muerto.

Hicieron el cortejo fúnebre… Lucia dormía en su cuarto y repentinamente se levanta diciendo:

• Mamá el muñequito me quito mi azabache.

(Para quien no entiende que es un azabache, es un brazalete que utilizaban mucho antes para proteger a los niños del mal de ojo)

• Niña eso no es posible, el ya no está vivo.
• ¡Sí! se escondió en la caja de la basura.

Su hermano mayor voltio la caja y no había nada, la llamo loca, nunca más encontraron el azabache...

…

Here ends the first chapter of the gift that I do not wish to have, it is a real story, Lucia is a fictitious name since the real protagonist does not want her name to appear, since her gift keeps it quiet, but I am authorized to tell her story, just as I was told, if you liked it I hope your comments to continue developing its continuation, of course! If it has acceptance, otherwise I will start with another different story, but I told many anecdotes and all I found very interesting. Greetings.

Aquí termina el primer capítulo del don que no deseo tener, es un relato real, Lucia es un nombre ficticio ya que la verdadera protagonista no desea que aparezca su nombre, ya que su don lo mantiene callado, pero me autorizo para narrar su historia, tal cual me lo contaron, si les gusto espero sus comentarios para seguir desarrollando su continuación, ¡Claro! Si tiene aceptación, de lo contrario comenzare con otra historia distinta, pero me conto muchas anécdotas y todas me parecieron muy interesantes. Saludos.

All images belong to pixabay, except the funeral image which belongs to our family album and is of a little cousin who died many years ago.
Use the translator DeepL.

Todas las imagenes pertenecen a pixabay, eseptuando la imagen del funeral que pertenece a nuestro albun familiar y es de una primita que murio hace muchos años atraz.
Utilice el traductor DeepL.