August 2022 - Restless in love

‘You are not still restless in love, are you?’ – he asks me after reading my blog.

Yes, there is a ‘he’ in my life. And yes, I still am.

Although it’s been a few good months so far, since I came back, not wanting to run away, just being happy… being here.

Then he whispers something, while gently kissing my forehead.

‘What was that?’, – I am not sure I heard it right. I thought he said the words that every girl wishes to hear. But I have to double check. It hasn’t been long enough, at least not long enough for me.

Instead of feeling like a calm sea, the way I did before he showed up, I feel gentle waves, now that he’s in my life. Sooner or later they will either turn into bigger waves, bigger still, maybe even a storm. Or they will simply disappear.

Nothing lasts forever.

The funny thing is, I don’t believe in ‘forever’ anymore.

All the times in the past when I’d get involved with a guy, I’d want us to be together forever, no other way around it.

Now, I just want us to be together, for as long as it lasts.

My daughter asks me why people die. I tell her they do because that’s how it is in this life. I do tell her too, that nothing lasts forever.

‘People are born and then they die. That’s the circle of life’, – I explain. ‘Everything sooner or later comes to an end’.

Life has showed me that there is no ‘forever’, and the fairy tale endings should be left at ‘they lived happily’, without the ‘ever after’.

She may not understand it yet, but she repeats it back to me.

‘One day you will die, too?’ – she’s curious.

‘Yes, I will’.

‘One day I will die, too?’ – she’s getting it now.

‘Yes, you will, but not for a very very long time. We’ll be together for many many years’.

‘When we celebrate death, we celebrate life’.

Sometimes at night, when I‘m stroking her hair while putting her to sleep, my girl in return caressess my hair. ‘Sleep, mommy, sleep’, – she shushes me.

‘This is what my extraordinary life is all about, and she is all mine’, – I think to myself at moments like that. ‘I would not exchange this to any other kind of life’.

And even though in many ways I could never be like Carrie Bradshaw, I have a passion for writing just like her.

‘Maybe one day I’ll write about you in my blog’, – I tell him playfully.

‘But I don’t want to die’, – he objects. ‘The men you write about die’, – he looks a little bit worried.

‘They do’, – I silently agree. That is my story before you.

Life is beautiful because looking back you can see the path you’ve taken, from the very beginning to the exact place where you are now. It seems that sometimes we make small, insignificant steps, but they may grow into a wonderful path, and reward with lifelong relationships.

‘Yo soy porque nosotros somos’.

It was another ordinary day, a couple of months before the tragedy. I was walking outside our house with my baby, pushing her in the pram, enjoying the slightly cooler weather of approaching evening. There was a basketball court just steps away from the house. Beno used to play there, I used to watch. And there was also a tiny park with a couple of benches, where I’d sit and just be quiet for a while.

On that day I saw a bunch of moms there. Moms, because they all seemed to have their babies in tow. There seemed to be a couple of dads, too.

‘They must be about to do some yoga’, – I thought to myself.

And as I had nothing better to do, I settled down on one of the benches and watched all those moms and babies mingling around.

Then suddenly I heard music, and the moms, together with their little ones, started dancing.

‘Ok’, – I thought to myself. ‘This is something different’.

So I watched the moms dance. I even received a couple of invitations to join them. But I felt a little bit shy, not really knowing what this was all about.

However, they seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves, and that was contagious. So when they were finished and packing up to leave, I asked if I could join them next time. The answer was a big positive ‘yes’.

This is how I met the moms from tribu Ubuntu. By accident, but I believe it was meant to be. They used to practice in a different park, but that time, when I happened to be where I was, tribu was there, ready to welcome me.

The moms became a tight knit group of friends. We had a lot of fun dancing together, getting ready for the IMAsivo of that year. Finally the steps were perfected, the clothes were ready, the baby carriers were decorated, the hair and makeup were discussed and agreed on (that was a long and heated discussion, by the way). However, just days before making the video for the contest the tragedy struck, and I had declined to participate further.

I received a huge support from the tribu. Even though afterwards I didn’t see them as often as I wanted to, and I stopped dancing, they were always there, ready to take me and my baby back.

From those days I took away beautiful relationships. My daughter now has at least two Mexican boyfriends (or brothers, as the mothers of the boys keep reminding me). With some of the moms, we cried together, we worked together, we explored together, we had sleepovers together, we laughed together.

The tribu today is miles away, but the memories are warm in my heart and the friends remain easily reachable.

Knowing that este is mi tribu, it’s not suprising, that when asked to make a presentation about myself at my new job recently, I said: ‘Some know me as a traveler, some know me as a dreamer, and some know me as part of tribu Ubuntu – a mother, dancing with her baby in her arms…’