A week's nightmare

I'm starting school tomorrow, first grade, and I'm quite excited to meet new people. I hope my new teacher is as good as my kindergarten teacher. And my classmates? Are they going to be nice with me?. Anyway, I'm going to sleep now, my mom is telling me off because it's 11.30 p.m. and I'm not sleeping yet.
‘Good morning Miss Maria!!!’ Miss Maria told us that we have to greet her everyday in the same way, to show respect, you know. Oh! I'm the tallest in my class...nice! I look older than the rest! I can reach places which are forbidden for the short ones, but I don't like sitting in the back row of our class.
What is that? I'm listening to Miss Maria, but I cannot see what is she drawing on the board. Maybe if I close my eyes a little bit I can see better... Yes, I can! But it's tiring to be all the time like this...I'll take Carolina's seat, she is supposed to be sitting two places in front of me, but today she didn't come.
I'm a little better, but my teacher told me to go back to my place...I'm sad, where's my mummy? That woman... Miss Maria, you know, she is mean! She doesn't like me because my mother is not all the time at school. My classmates' mothers are...Marcela's mother is here, Laura's mother is also here, where's my mother? I really want to cry...but I won't. I won't cry because I'm not that weak. I'm going home now and I'll be better tomorrow.
Today I got dressed in a hurry and asked my father and brother to hurry too, because I want to arrive at school before the rest of my classmates. I want to sit in a better place. After all, sitting at the back I feel like a shadow. Miss Maria only talks to the girls sitting in the first three rows.
Nice, this is my chance, there's nobody else, I can choose wherever I want to sit!...’ No, Marcela, I want to have this seat, go to the back and sit in my place!’ Oops! Marcela is crying... I don't care, I didn't do anything wrong! Marcela's mother is coming! My God, she is a tall woman! I hope she won't dare to hit me, I'm afraid now. My chest sounds as if I had horse galloping inside. I’m trembling. I’m sweating. I'm trying to explain to this woman that I cannot see quite well from my seat, I understand that I'm as tall as a tree, and the little ones sitting behind me only see my back. I need someone to listen to my excuses. I've been suffering from a similar misfortune since the first day. My notebook is almost empty, I'm tired of being told off at home because I never finish taking notes in class. I really want to learn, I want to learn how to read. I don't like waiting for my parents having time to read me a short story! I'm tired of just imagining a story from pictures! I want to read!!! At the back I'm not learning...where's my mum?
My teacher is coming and Marcela's mother is rushing towards her! What is she going to say?...I'm in trouble...Oh, my God! I've been naughty, and if my mother finds out, I'll lose my dolls! I don't want to lose my things, I just want to learn! I'm desperate, I want to cry... I've never cried when my mother abandoned me with Miss Maria. I'm not a cry-baby, but Miss Maria is coming to tell me off...OK, I'm already crying...’No, Miss Maria...I just want to sit here... because I cannot see the blackboard... from the place I'm supposed to be sitting, I'm sorry, I didn't do anything...please, don't call my parents, I promise I'll go back to my place...PLEASE, don't call my parents, they'll be upset with me!
Nice! The horses are disappearing. Apparently, she understood everything! Marcela is sitting behind me... but I'm having a note to my parents. What does it say? That's why I want to learn how to read. I don't like not knowing if I've done something wrong. What's the note about?
My parents are coming with me to school. Miss Maria asked us to copy some words from our book, while she speaks with my parents... I’ll finish in a hurry to go and see what is happening outside... "Mi mamá me ama, mi mamá me mima, mi mamá amasa la masa"... Ready! Now I want to know what they are talking about! Oops, my parents’ faces are not so good. What have I done wrong? If she understood everything yesterday, why is it that my parents are looking at me as if I were about to die?
We are at a doctor's office now. Am I sick? I don't feel anything. In fact I'm feeling quite good. Why am I here? No, doctor, I don't know how to read yet, I cannot learn anything because I'm sitting at the back. Oh, but I know that drawing! It is an "A", yes, and that other in an "E"...Mom I know how to read! I already know how to read! It’s great, isn’t it?... But the tiny ones are blurred. I cannot see them. I'm sorry, I'm a complete ignorant... Glasses? No, I don't need glasses, no doctor, I don’t want them!... OK mummy, don’t be upset. I’ll try them on... Oh! I can see the tiny ones now. Yes doctor, I can see perfectly well. That's a "P" which is my name's initial, and an "M" like the one I need to write "Mamá". Thank you doctor, it didn't hurt.
I'm happy now. I'm the only one in my classroom with glasses. I'm special. I can sit at the back without problems.
Marcela, you've been a mean person. Stay in your ugly place, I don't like it anymore. You are mean and I'm special. I have glasses and you don't.

Four Funerals and a Wedding

I've been blessed in my life in many ways, but the one I'm more amazed about, is the little amount of important loses that I've suffered.
Four funerals and a wedding may seem a satire to the title of Hugh Grant's movie, but it's not. That's the real amount of important events that I experienced in the last eleven years.
In 1996, My father's mother died after suffering for three months due to an intra-hospital virus. Everything started on March, 3rd, a day before her 51st wedding anniversary. She went to her living room to put the China on the table, because she wanted to have a perfect celebration the next day, but on her way through the long corridor of the old train-like house, she missed a step and fell down breaking her hips.
Her wedding anniversary was beyond her expectancies. She spent it hospitalized. But with the whole family around her. Some days later, she went on surgery to try to fix her broken bones, and it seemed to be perfect. She was sent to her house, and the doctor advised her to start walking as soon as possible. She tried. She walked in pain for a week, until my mother and my father's sister realized that something was wrong with her injury. She was admitted again in the same private hospital, but the doctors discovered that she had a serious infection, and they had to remove the gadget that was implanted in her hips to help her walk again.
From then on, everything went down, she never went back home, she only travelled from I.C.U to a common room and back. On June, 24Th 1996, after a strange dream I had in which she cried to me asking for relief, at 1 p.m. she died in peace.
On February 5Th, 2000, I got married. Against everyone's predictions and expectations, I got pregnant and neither my parents, nor my husband's parents could refuse the idea anymore. They agreed on the decision we'd taken eight months before, when we secretly got engaged. My life was great, I was in love, I was pregnant, I was finally getting married. I would stop lying to my parents in order to have a moment with my boyfriend. I would have the freedom of sleeping whole nights, end enjoy my sleeping without worrying about arriving home before 5 a.m. I would sleep with him...not only serve the natural needs. I was absolutely happy, until the wicked witch (known as my husband's mother) started spreading her intrigues. Anyway, that's subject for another entry.
On December 26Th, 2001, after celebrating Christmas with my in-laws at their house in the countryside, and due to the big crash in economy some weeks before, my beloved father-in-law left us alone in this earthly world. The news knocked me, because he was the fresh air I needed every time I went to their house. He received me as the daughter he never had. He was constantly thinking about my welfare and my son's. In fact, some days before he died, he was thinking about buying me a car "to avoid the risks of handling with my son in buses." He was also my husband's pillar. They used to go hunting and fishing together since my husband was five. They had a close-knit relationship. They felt at ease when they were together. My father in law was human, he was full of flaws, but no one can deny that he was a great man, extremely generous and always thinking about others. I've never seen such a long line of cars accompanying a coffin. The worst part is that I had to carry out with the organization of most of the things when he died. My husband's mother was shocked, as well as her two sons, and nobody in the family was willing to. I still miss him, especially in the countryside house where I saw him alive for the last time. That's one of the reasons why I don't go there as often as my husband wishes. He was 49, and died from a heart attack.
On August 12Th, 2002, I didn't have a funeral for the baby I lost, because it was on its early stages, but I knew it was alive when they showed me the fetus' heart beating in the same study where my doctor said it was an ectopic pregnancy, and I needed urgent surgery to remove it.
The third funeral was my mother's father. To tell you the truth, I don't remember the date. He was old, he was not my grandfather, he was just my mother's father. I never had a grandpa-grand daughter relationship with him. In fact, some time after his death, I heard that my mother's mother told one of her friends that "I stood at the door looking at his dead body as if I were looking at a dead dog." My first thought was: "She has to be kidding!" but then a strong anger appeared. I didn't know that man when he was alive, I was there because of my mother. When I had the chance to meet him, he was flying on a distant star because of his hydrocephalus disease! He didn't know me! However, I'm not a monster, I'm just reluctant to see dead bodies. I went there because of my mother. I accept that I didn't spill a tear for him. I didn't know that man. But I never looked at him as she thought.
The last funeral was on October 2nd, 2006. Our Lola Mora's Headmaster died out of the blue. He was a doctor and I still wonder why on earth he couldn't cure himself as he may have done with others. I remember that I used to think that he was too serious. I used to believe that he was unreachable. In time I understood that he was a great man. He was the one who supported Jesi and me when we were preparing Halloween in 2005. Against all odds, he encouraged us to continue with our project without paying attention to the stones we had on our way. He was the strong figure that we knew the very first day of classes walking through our school's long corridors. He was the one who showed me his pride when he learnt that Jesi and me were presenting a lecture in a conference. He was the one that treated Jesi and me as if we were special. He used to make jokes to Jesi and me. He was the one who let us waiting for him forever. I regret now because I didn't want to bother him when he was hospitalized. I really wanted to see him and tell him that for me he was my "uncle Albert," that I was so happy of having met him, that he was the perfect driver for the big Lola Mora Airplane.
Uncle Albert, you were my last big loss, and sometimes I find myself looking through our classroom window, as if I were waiting to see you walking and smiling at me as you used to.
The pain will go in time. At this moment, I still spill a tear when I stop in my everyday rush, and reflect on the ones that are not with me anymore.
Hoping that all of you are better where you are, once again...GOOD BYE!