Hoje as palavras soltas vão ser um excerto de remendos da minha vida, coisas que só agora estou a conseguir mexer nelas e que já têm demasiadas teias de aranha. Mas, de certo modo, vou partilhá-las para que a minha história possa, um dia, quiçá, ajudar alguém que também esteja a viver a mesma situação ou que tenha, pelo menos, passado por ela. Estou a escrever um "diário" com estas minhas histórias e por isso compilo apenas um excerto do muito que já escrevi nele. Espero que gostem na mesma das palavras soltas ou, se não gostarem, que seja apenas um bocadinho menos.
"Ela era tudo para mim. E naquele
momento tornou-se ainda maior a certeza disso. O cheiro dela permanecia pela
casa como se ela ainda continuasse viva nas nossas vidas. E continuava. Nos
nossos corações mantinha-se acesa a sua chama, a sua alegria, todo o seu ser.
Mesmo em mim. Principalmente em mim.
Lembro-me
daquele dia como se fosse hoje. Estava sol e as aulas tinham decorrido
normalmente como todos os dias. Os meus colegas corriam como tolos tal como das
outras vezes pelo recreio depois do toque da campainha que marcava a hora de
saída. Guardei o estojo, o livro e o caderno na mochila e saí, como era
habitual, acompanhada pela minha melhor amiga, a J. Eu e a J fazíamos
praticamente tudo juntas. Já nos conhecíamos desde a primária por isso a ligação
era maior. Uma vez chegaram a achar que éramos gémeas. E não tínhamos nada a
ver uma com a outra, muito menos em aparência. O pai dela, ou a mãe, já não me
recordo muito bem, foi buscar-nos à porta da escola e deixou-me na casa dos
meus avós maternos. Observando por fora a casa, as coisas pareciam estar tal e
qual como as tivera deixado no dia anterior. Entrei em casa pela porta branca. Chamava-se assim porque a
outra era de alumínio. Tudo parecia estar tão igual como quando a observara por
fora. Mas na verdade não estava, faltava alguma coisa, qualquer coisa, mas
ainda não conseguira descobrir o quê. Corri pelo corredor com as suas paredes
verdes forradas por um móvel imenso de pinho, ou qualquer coisa parecida, e
cheguei à porta da sala de jantar. Esta sala em tempos estava dividida em sala
de estar e de jantar mas com a dificuldade que a minha avó começou a ter em
caminhar resolveram transformá-la em sala de jantar e quarto de dormir. Entrei
a medo. Ainda não tinha escutado uma voz. Faltava ali a presença inconfundível
e sempre presente da minha avó. A curiosidade matava-me mas tinha muito medo da
resposta. A minha mãe parecia normal e o meu avô transbordava uma tranquilidade
inesgotável como lhe era característica. Mas onde estaria ela? Até que a pergunta
saiu. “Onde está a avó?” Maldita a hora em que a minha boca se abrira. Por
vezes não sei fechar a “matraca”. Acho que a pergunta, mesmo que já estando à
espera dela, caiu como uma bomba no meio de nós os três. Na cara da minha mãe
lia-se “Mas o que lhe vou responder?” e a cara do meu avô mantinha-se serena
como sempre. A resposta demorava a sair mas acabou por sair. “Foi para o
hospital.”Apesar de tudo não assimilei muito bem aquela resposta. Parecia um
sonho ou então eu estava em processo de negação."
Até podia escrever mais um pouco mas isso já são outras palavras soltas.
Ana Reis
"Today
these words will be an excerpt from patches of my life, things
that only now I am able to move them and it already have too many cobwebs. But,
somehow, I will share them with you so that my story might one day, perhaps,
also help someone who is living the same situation or has at least
passed through it. I'm writing a long "diary" with all of my stories and so I have compile only an excerpt from it. I hope you like these words like the others I've wrote, but if you don't like it, I hope it's just a little less. "She was everything to me. And at that moment I became even more sure of
that. Her scent remained in the house as if she still kept alive in our
lives. And continued. In our hearts remained lit her flame, her joy, her whole being. Even in me. Especially in me.
I remember that day like it was today. It was a sunny day and classes had elapsed like every day. My colleagues ran like fools as at other days by the schoolyard after the bell ringing, wich marked that it's time of departure. I put the pencil holder, books and notebooks in my backpack and got out of school, as usual, accompanied by my best friend, J. J and I did almost everything together. We had known each other since elementary school so the connection between us was greater. Almost of the people thought that we were twins! And we were not similar at all, not in personality and even less in appearance. Her father, or mother, I can't remember very well, fetched us at the school gate and left me in the house of my maternal grandparents. Looking outside of the house things seemed to be just like we had left the day before. I entered the house through the white door. It was called so because the other was in aluminum. Everything seemed to be so similar as when I observed from the outside. But actually it wasn't, it was missing something, anything, but I still couldn't figure out what. I ran down the hall with its green walls are covered with an immense Mobile Pine, or something like that, and came close to the dining room door. This room was once divided into living and dining rooms but my grandmother started to have some difficulty on walking and we decided to turn it into a dining room and bedroom area. I enter the room with fear. I hadn't heard a voice. I missed the unmistakable presence and always present of my grandmother there. The curiosity was killing me but was too afraid of the answer. My mother and my grandfather seemed normal and they overflowed an endless tranquility that they used to have. But where was she? And the question finally came. " Where's Grandma? " I cursed the time that my mouth had opened. Sometimes I don't know how to close my mouth. I think the question, even though we were waiting for it, we felt like it was a bomb that fell in the middle of us. In the face of my mother I could read - "But what will I answer her?" And the face of my grandfather remained serene as ever. The answer was slow to come out but it ended up leaving. "She went to the hospital." Nevertheless I haven't assimilated very well that answer. It seemed a dream or I was in denial process."
I could write some more words but this is already another kind of words.
Ana Reis
I remember that day like it was today. It was a sunny day and classes had elapsed like every day. My colleagues ran like fools as at other days by the schoolyard after the bell ringing, wich marked that it's time of departure. I put the pencil holder, books and notebooks in my backpack and got out of school, as usual, accompanied by my best friend, J. J and I did almost everything together. We had known each other since elementary school so the connection between us was greater. Almost of the people thought that we were twins! And we were not similar at all, not in personality and even less in appearance. Her father, or mother, I can't remember very well, fetched us at the school gate and left me in the house of my maternal grandparents. Looking outside of the house things seemed to be just like we had left the day before. I entered the house through the white door. It was called so because the other was in aluminum. Everything seemed to be so similar as when I observed from the outside. But actually it wasn't, it was missing something, anything, but I still couldn't figure out what. I ran down the hall with its green walls are covered with an immense Mobile Pine, or something like that, and came close to the dining room door. This room was once divided into living and dining rooms but my grandmother started to have some difficulty on walking and we decided to turn it into a dining room and bedroom area. I enter the room with fear. I hadn't heard a voice. I missed the unmistakable presence and always present of my grandmother there. The curiosity was killing me but was too afraid of the answer. My mother and my grandfather seemed normal and they overflowed an endless tranquility that they used to have. But where was she? And the question finally came. " Where's Grandma? " I cursed the time that my mouth had opened. Sometimes I don't know how to close my mouth. I think the question, even though we were waiting for it, we felt like it was a bomb that fell in the middle of us. In the face of my mother I could read - "But what will I answer her?" And the face of my grandfather remained serene as ever. The answer was slow to come out but it ended up leaving. "She went to the hospital." Nevertheless I haven't assimilated very well that answer. It seemed a dream or I was in denial process."
I could write some more words but this is already another kind of words.
Ana Reis
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