Hasta luego abuela.

Hoy es un día en el que creo que debo escribir.

Espero que este ejercicio me ayude a organizar un poco mis recuerdos y, si tengo suerte, a sacarme una sonrisa entre las oleadas de dolor.

Este fin de semana, mientras media España lloraba al gran Tony Leblanc, mientras los Estados Unidos lloraban al gran malvado Larry Hagman, mientras los cinéfilos lloraban a Jose Luis Borau, yo presentía que iba a perder a alguien mucho mas importante en mi vida que todos ellos y así ha sido.

Yo lloro, pero no por ninguno de los tres anteriormente mencionados  sino por una mujer, que sin ser conocida, me ha hecho infinitamente mas feliz que ellos.

Hablo de mi abuela Fe.

Anoche supe que no lo había conseguido. Tras años batallando contra el Alzheimer, tras toda una vida de soledad, donde supo transmitir alegría a sus nietos y donde nos dio todo sin pedir nada a cambio, este fin de semana su cuerpo no ha podido mas. Una simple infección de orina ha acabado con las pocas fuerzas que le quedaban.

Hacía años que Fe había dejado de vivir en este estresante e inquietante presente para refugiarse en el pasado. El Alzheimer la llevó de vuelta a su niñez, donde se refugiaba de su soledad y de su estado. Solamente de vez en cuando venía de visita al presente, en los escasos momentos de lucidez que le quedaban, para emocionarnos a todos con un nombre recordado o una frase simpática que nos hacía reír  porque aunque no tenía ningún sentido, mostraba que aun nos tenía dentro.

Ella creó para mi y para todos sus nietos una especie de refugio, un parque de atracciones, un nombre mágico que esperábamos con ansia a lo largo de todo el año. Ribadeo.

Allí disfrutamos la niñez tanto como se puede disfrutar. Jugando, pedaleando, corriendo y experimentando tanto como era posible. Y siempre en un entorno amable y seguro, del que ella era la única responsable. Ella siempre tenía una sonrisa lista cuando llegábamos a casa. Cada vez que volvíamos exhaustos de la playa o de una tarde de baloncesto, sabíamos que en la mesa habría un plato con filetes rusos, unas filloas o nos prepararía unas tostadas de pan con nocilla mientras freía unas patatas con zorza y huevos fritos. Y lo mas importante de todo, una sonrisa.
Todo era por y para nosotros. Para hacernos felices. Esa era su felicidad. Y su orgullo.

Ahora se ha ido, se ha reunido con su hijo pequeño y con mis otros abuelos y ha dejado de sobrevivir, supongo que para descansar. Pero en mi ha dejado un gran vacío. La muerte de mi padre arrancó un pedazo de mi que nunca he vuelto a recuperar y desde entonces reconozco que tengo muchos problemas para lidiar con la muerte. Me resulta insoportable la idea del vacío que deja detrás. Me parece imposible de asumir que nunca mas volveré a verla y mas aún que ni podré despedirla estando como estoy a miles de kilómetros de casa.

Me siento terriblemente culpable de no haber ido a visitarla mas a menudo en sus últimos años, uno de los efectos colaterales de la muerte de mi padre. Ella tendía a pensar que yo era el y eso era algo que me desarmaba, jamás podre estar a la altura. Y si se me escapaban las lágrimas ella lloraba también, aun sin saber porque, lo que lo hacía mas duro si cabe. Ahora se que todas esas veces que no he ido a verla por miedo a como podía afectarme van a pesar como una losa en mi conciencia. Serán oportunidades perdidas.

Hace 11 meses que no estoy en España, hace 11 meses que no la veo y ahora nunca mas la veré.

Va por ti abuela, espero que sepas perdonar mi debilidad como siempre me has perdonado todo.

Te quiero.

One year...

Good evening.

It's been a long time since i don't write anything here, mostly because of the lack of good news and general demotivation, but also to not worry the people i love or care about.

A day like today, exactly a year ago, i was packing all my stuff. I was full of illusions about how it would be my new life. A total change was about to happen in my life. Habits, lifestyle, time schedules, food... Everything was about to change and even though i didn't know exactly how or in which direction, i had blind faith in my plan. A plan that was supported by then for the people i knew here.

Those were days full of dreams and illusions, as you all can read in the very first posts of this blog. And now, a year after... here i am.

This adventure definitely made grow up as a person. I'm much more wise and less naive than a year ago. I proved myself so many things that i wasn't sure i was capable to realize, i also learnt a lot about people, about how the things can be so different of how you think they can be, about being frustrated, disappointed and terribly sad and lonely, about the cultural shock, about the feeling that all the Galicians know so well, but I've never felt before with this intensity, the "morriña", a Galician word which describes better than anything else so many of my feelings here.

Now, after a year, and knowing how the situation is in Spain, i know i'll have to be here for some more time and surprisingly, for the very first time in so many months, i guess i'm fine with it.

Nothing will change the suffering that i could feel being here, the feeling of not having anyone but myself, the feeling of waking up after a nice dream and realize that most part of the dream was nothing but that, a dream, not real at all. The feeling of losing something that for years and years i thought it was there, for every time i could need it, and also wasn't real and maybe never was there.

I had to deal with some attributes that were totally foreign to me. Selfishness, coldness, the meaning of friendship depending on the person... All of them so hard to swallow for this proud Spanish man, who had to do things he would never believe he could do a year ago, who had to humiliate himself endless times to try to make the things go better, who had to stand things he never could believe possible to stand without losing his mind and in every single case with no results at all, just empty promises or empty words.

All those negative emotions almost finished me, they were really close to do it. I was about to give up many times, but after the training that i had during the bad years i had in the past, with my heart (and mind) broken for things that were really important in my life and i lost forever, after knowing what the real friendship or the real love means, finally i could get over all the bad feelings i had here. It was painful yes, a lot, but after thinking a lot about it i know now that nobody can hurt you unless you care about it. If there's no respect or consideration, if there's nothing but empty words with no meaning... why should i expect anything at all? And if so... why should it be hurting? If there's no expectations there's no way to be disappointed. Good and priceless lesson about people.

After all that's also a cultural issue. In Estonia the average attitude is to give up on whatever even before try and also to take the things like they come, not trying to change anything and not fighting for anything. Just a movement of shoulders and move on, let's see what comes next. No feelings involved and no passion at all.

Really annoying attitude for a Spanish man who can't give up on anything before trying every single way to get it before. And even then is hard and frustrating for me to not get it. I wasn't born to be like that and i won't change now. If i care about something i do everything in my hand to keep it safe and protected or fight as much i can to get it or change it.

Here that's an alien attitude which deserves no respect at all. As much a sad look, like saying... poor guy.

Now at least i know few Estonians (really few) that have some blood in their veins. Not a lot to be honest, but at least some. 

The first year in Estonia was hard, so hard.

But also, when i look back, i can see that i made great things too. Things that i couldn't enjoy while i was making them, but i do now and i'm proud of them.

I'm not so young, i won't say i'm old, but i'm old enough to be scared of changes, scared of not being so flexible about many (new) things, and here all of that didn't matter anymore.

After the first couple of months here, by far the best ones speaking about fun, relax and social life, i realized that eventually i could live here, therefore i had to look for a job here.

I knew i didn't want to be a tax collector anymore, so everything i could do had to be completely new for me. I was looking for a job for less than a week, i applied for the only offer i liked, i got the interview and it's been about 9 months since i'm working there.

In the very beginning everything was quite challenging. To work in another language, with almost every single accent in the world, a completely different kind of job, hundreds of procedures and rules to learn during a really hot summer, so many new people to know... Now that i'm already so used to it it's funny to look behind and remember those days. 

Now i have quite many friends among my colleagues and i get along with everybody, the job is not that hard anymore, only annoying sometimes, and i proved myself i could adapt to whatever circumstance, doesn't matter if i'm already skilled doing it or i need to learn everything from zero.

Also i had to learn how to live alone in a "hostile" environment, not knowing the language and not having anyone to speak to or ask about the things of the everyday life, things like  where i can go to buy something or how to fill the tax forms. Once again i think i succeeded in that. I still can't speak Estonian (shame on me), but the people at the supermarkets of kiosks are already used to see me around and more or less i can have what i consider a normal life.

I even found some unexpected things, really unexpected but extremely pleasant that will be part of a different chapter in this blog.

I got used to go out alone, it still sucks, but i can do it, and sometimes i'm invited to some meetings with my colleagues and even when i'm so lazy and this flat is so tiny, some people comes here too.

I can't say i'm living in the same way i was living in Spain. Those who really know me couldn't believe how i can survive here and with this kind of life, without all the things i left behind and were like a part of me. I had a pleasant life in Spain and gave up on almost everything i had chasing this dream, looking for this experience.

It's been a year since i'm here, it's been a year since this adventure started, and even though there's  quite many shadows among the lights, i can say it was positive.

Maybe i thought it could be easier than it was, but that made me grow up as a person and that's priceless. And if the things goes on in the way they are going now... I guess i'll stay here for a long time, and hopefully not so alone.

Happy anniversary to me!