8M-Samaritana Oaxaca
Tal vez tenemos mucha necesidad de normar: A los seres, a lxs cuerpxs, a las enfermedades, a la Naturaleza. Lo cierto es que al final nuestro deseo compulsivo de control escapa por la puerta grande y nos enfrenta a nuestros más grandes miedos, a nuestros terrores internos, a nuestros sentimientos de culpa o de responsabilidad.
Hace dos días murió mi tía Francisca, la hermana de mi padre, ella que se casó pese a todo atroz pronostico de que las "solteronas", "las mujeres mayores no se casan".
Ella decidió morir en su casa, cosa que quizá muchas de nosotras no podremos -luchamos con monstruos llamados precariedad laboral y gentrificación-.
Ella decidió cómo morir, guste o no guste, dijo no a los tratámientos médicos propuestos y en esa elección asumió llevar a cuestas el dolor.
Quizá pocas personas puedan entender la decisión de elegir cómo morir, y que eso no tiene que ver con lo que pudimos o no pudimos hacer, sino con las posibilidades reales de defender el derecho a que no decidan sobre nosotras, sobre nuestrxs cuerpxs, sobre nuestro derecho a la salud integral y no invasiva.
Admiro la integridad que tuvo para con su vida, el amor que me dio, quizá yo no logré corresponderlo tanto como se lo debía, pero sé que ella tampoco lo miró así, en nuestro ádios no hubo reproches solo la promesa de que iría en abril a verla.
Agradezco todo lo que me enseñó tanto de la vida como de la muerte, y sé que para mí fue esa mujer que me dio a beber agua del pozo, como la mujer de Samaria (Palestina), ella conocía la promesa que encerraba el compartir con propios y extraños.
Mi tía sabía que era sentarse a tomar un descanso en la hamaca, bajo la sombra del árbol de aguacate, ella reconocía lo que necesita para el buen vivir.
Ella fue la maestra que me hizo tener interés en leer desde las cosas más simples hasta la curiosidad por las novelas, siempre buscó que reflexionara sobre lo que leía. Ella fue la que me decía que todo lo que se escribe se puede analizar y que si juntaba las letras podía crear palabras, palabras que estaban llenas de sentido o vacías (eso dependía de la intensión).
Ella no fue perfecta, no tenía que serlo, esas son exigencias de la gente que quiere decir qué hacer y cómo hacerlo, ella fue lo que quizo con todas sus letras, con todas sus consecuencias, y sin embargo, gustara o no ella pudo liberarse del peso de la autoridad patriarcal, la misma que le robo el espacio seguro.
Francisca se fue en este cambio de ejes Aries-Libra, mi Luna en Libra, mi madre aire, mi madre mental, se ha ido para dejarme crecer, para que cruce mis miedos y asuma cada acto de mi vida con sus consecuencias, para que tome la vida como es.
Collage: Careli
8M-Samaritan Oaxaca
Maybe we have a great need to regulate: Beings, bodies, diseases, Nature. The truth is that in the end our compulsive desire for control escapes through the front door and confronts us with our greatest fears, our internal terrors, our feelings of guilt or responsibility.
Two days ago my aunt Francisca, my father's sister, died, she who got married despite every atrocious prognosis that "spinsters", "older women do not marry."
She decided to die in her house, something that perhaps many of us will not be able to do - we fight with monsters called job insecurity and gentrification.
She decided how to die, whether she liked it or not, she said no to the proposed medical treatments and in that choice she assumed carrying the pain on her back.
Perhaps few people can understand the decision to choose how to die, and that this has nothing to do with what we could or could not do, but with the real possibilities of defending the right not to have decisions about us, about our bodies, about our right to comprehensive and non-invasive health.
I admire the integrity she had for her life, the love she gave me, perhaps I did not manage to reciprocate it as much as I owed her, but I know that she did not look at it that way either, in our goodbye there were no reproaches, only the promise that she would go in April to see it.
I appreciate everything she taught me about both life and death, and I know that for me she was that woman who gave me water from the well to drink, like the woman from Samaria (Palestine), she knew the promise that sharing with own and foreign.
My aunt knew that she was sitting and taking a break in the hammock, under the shade of the avocado tree, she recognized what she needs for a good life.
She was the teacher who made me interested in reading, from the simplest things to curiosity about novels, she always wanted me to reflect on what she read. She was the one who told me that everything that is written can be analyzed and that if she put the letters together she could create words, words that were full of meaning or empty (that depended on the intention).
She was not perfect, she did not have to be, those are demands of people who want to say what to do and how to do it, she was what she wanted with all her letters, with all her consequences, and yet, whether she liked it or not, she was able to free herself. of the weight of patriarchal authority, the same one that stole his safe space.
Francisca left in this change of Aries-Libra axes, my Moon in Libra, my air mother, my mental mother, she has left to let me grow, so that I can cross my fears and assume each act of my life with its consequences, so that take life as it is.
Wall painter: Ana Hernández
8M-Samaritan Oaxaca
Maybe we have a great need to regulate: Beings, bodies, diseases, Nature. The truth is that in the end our compulsive desire for control escapes through the front door and confronts us with our greatest fears, our internal terrors, our feelings of guilt or responsibility.
Two days ago my aunt Francisca, my father's sister, died, she who got married despite every atrocious prognosis that "spinsters", "older women do not marry."
She decided to die in her house, something that perhaps many of us will not be able to do - we fight with monsters called job insecurity and gentrification.
She decided how to die, whether she liked it or not, she said no to the proposed medical treatments and in that choice she assumed carrying the pain on her back.
Perhaps few people can understand the decision to choose how to die, and that this has nothing to do with what we could or could not do, but with the real possibilities of defending the right not to have decisions about us, about our bodies, about our right to comprehensive and non-invasive health.
I admire the integrity she had for her life, the love she gave me, perhaps I did not manage to reciprocate it as much as I owed her, but I know that she did not look at it that way either, in our goodbye there were no reproaches, only the promise that she would go in April to see it.
I appreciate everything she taught me about both life and death, and I know that for me she was that woman who gave me water from the well to drink, like the woman from Samaria (Palestine), she knew the promise that sharing with own and foreign.
My aunt knew that she was sitting and taking a break in the hammock, under the shade of the avocado tree, she recognized what she needs for a good life.
She was the teacher who made me interested in reading, from the simplest things to curiosity about novels, she always wanted me to reflect on what she read. She was the one who told me that everything that is written can be analyzed and that if she put the letters together she could create words, words that were full of meaning or empty (that depended on the intention).
She was not perfect, she did not have to be, those are demands of people who want to say what to do and how to do it, she was what she wanted with all her letters, with all her consequences, and yet, whether she liked it or not, she was able to free herself. of the weight of patriarchal authority, the same one that stole his safe space.
Francisca left in this change of Aries-Libra axes, my Moon in Libra, my air mother, my mental mother, she has left to let me grow, so that I can cross my fears and assume each act of my life with its consequences, so that take life as it is.
Wall painter: Ana Hernández
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