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Farewell...finally
I can finally let him go...somehow. To my flist; thanks for putting up with me these past days. Thanks for either the long conversations, for the advice, for the love and patience you've blessed me with.
I could finally write about him. I don't honoured him with this, I know. I still lack the words to speak of him, of what he meant to me. Of the good friend he was, but I could finally write.
*sigh*
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields."
There are friendships that don’t last more than a flea’s breathe. There are others that last only what they are supposed to last. There are others, however, that are meant to last forever.
This, I believe was the kind of friendship that I had with Canek, my Kitten. His “name” was Minino; but in English, Kitten is the closest.
Who was him to me? I’ve been thinking about this myself. I have grieved and mourned his death, but I can only imagine how his wife and best friends are feeling. Canek was a good friend. He was a good person. A wonderful man. A human being. He achieved everything he wanted in his life, even when it was too short. My friend also made mistakes; I said it already, he was human.
When I met him, we were playing in a forum in Spanish. We were looking forward to playing with each other. He was Bud of Alcor. I had two characters, Aioria and Aeacus. His Bud and my Aeacus were to face each other, but one day, the forum was deleted, gone forever. However, we decided to keep talking. Sporadic conversations at first. Then, on March 11, 2004; we began to speak more. With time, it was almost like a daily date to meet at night and talk.
I got to know my friend deeply. Those next months, were discovery for us. He got to know me, as well. He used to say that I was nice, cute, depressive. He even called me a good writer. For him, I never had words. To me, Canek was amazing. My friend had bipolar syndrome. He got Aids many years ago. This caused him to go through many difficult situations. He lost his wife, his family. Canek couldn’t get to know his first son, Jesus. It was then that I met him. Little by little he began to tell me about all this.
I still remember when he told me about Marcela, his wife. He spoke of her with such a sweetness and passion at the same time. She was his world. Everything he had wanted. Everything he needed.
In August, 2004; due to the fact that he got very ill (actually, he was in a coma) Marce came back with him. I had never seen him so happy before.
•••now I’m recounting this quickly…•••
I knew he was going to be all right. You’ll see, my friend was afraid of the pain he went through so much, and of dying alone. I could be with him during his crisis, I could share my time with him, giving him comfort, but I wasn’t his wife, and I couldn’t be there with him. That’s why when he told me they were back together, I knew it was going to be all right. By that time, he already called me Luna. After that, he began to call me “Cuxta” it means “life” in nahualt, the language of his ancestors. He used to say that Marce and I brought him back to life from his come. Marce was reading “Eyes” to him when he woke up.
They went to Valladolid to live together a year ago. They had just celebrated their 5th wedding anniversary. God…he was so excited about going there, about feeling the sand underneath his feet. I was so happy for him, for them. Ohh I didn’t say it, I met Marce as well. She’s one of the sweetest people I’ve met. She called me on my birthday last year. She sang “Las Mañanitas” for me, she even gave me “lengüetazos babosientos” (Canek’s kisses..like a dog’s) he heard me, for he’d lost his voice…he said my voice was like a little girl’s.
He blamed it on me that he made love to his wife
“Lunita, what do I do?”
“Make love to your wife, Minino; never stop showing her how much you love her…”
And of course, he blamed it on me that Naidee had been born…and we were both happy with that.
So many memories…and so few words to tell them…
Canek and I could make tantrums to the other. He always complained that he couldn’t reach me. That I was always silent. We sort of invented a way to communicate to each other. He would say “meow” and I would respond “shuuu” (to us, the Moon has no sound, yet the wind does…kinda) he would say “nadixieli” (I love you in nahualt) and I would respond the same way.
I was always jealous of him speaking with other people. I felt like I was losing him. Actually, I told him so the last time we had a fight; a week before his passing. Again, the problem was my silence…his friends…now it was also my new friends…and I told him I’d lost him long ago. I believed he didn’t need me anymore. He had everything he needed. Marce was with him. Naidee his child had already been born. Canek was not alone anymore. He wrote things fore on his blog, I answered them; always hurting each other, until he wrote “I love you Moony!” (te amo lunita!) on his blog and I responded here on lj “I’ve never stopped loving you, Kitten” (Yo nunca he dejado de amarte, Minino)
The last time we talked, all the conversation was about his daughter Naidee, her first typing on the pc, my stories, his I love yous…mine.
A few days later, I found out he was gone…and still today, I haven’t recovered myself from the news. Many people lost a friend…I didn’t only lose a friend. I lost a companion, my Kitten. The one who had me as his moon to meow to.
And not having him around has me deeply wounded. His absence is … *sigh*
Aurore sent me this on a mail, in which she wrote a piece of the Little Prince in French. You’re right. I don’t have wheat, but I still have the Moon and the meowing of cats every night to remember him. You were right, I have found comfort in my memories.
I can’t forget you, and I won’t. Besides, I still have a promise to keep.
Nadixieli, Minino…and nochipa (although this is not mine)
Siempre te tender en mí. Tu eras parte de mi, de mi alma. Eras mi amigo, que encontró la felicidad al final del camino. Yo era la parte verde de tu vida, tu eras a quien yo podía mecer en mi menguante. Eras quien me hacía rabiar y reír al mismo tiempo. Perdóname por no verte allá arriba como un ángel, cuidándome. Estás en todo, porque ya eres parte de todo. Escogimos quedarnos al lado del otro, tu y yo...gracias por ello.
Te amo, mi Minino blanco de las praderas que además eras Yucateco.
El miedo desapareció. Fuiste feliz, y eso ya hace que todo haya valido la pena. Te lo dije, no?
Tu Lunita.
I could finally write about him. I don't honoured him with this, I know. I still lack the words to speak of him, of what he meant to me. Of the good friend he was, but I could finally write.
*sigh*
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields."
There are friendships that don’t last more than a flea’s breathe. There are others that last only what they are supposed to last. There are others, however, that are meant to last forever.
This, I believe was the kind of friendship that I had with Canek, my Kitten. His “name” was Minino; but in English, Kitten is the closest.
Who was him to me? I’ve been thinking about this myself. I have grieved and mourned his death, but I can only imagine how his wife and best friends are feeling. Canek was a good friend. He was a good person. A wonderful man. A human being. He achieved everything he wanted in his life, even when it was too short. My friend also made mistakes; I said it already, he was human.
When I met him, we were playing in a forum in Spanish. We were looking forward to playing with each other. He was Bud of Alcor. I had two characters, Aioria and Aeacus. His Bud and my Aeacus were to face each other, but one day, the forum was deleted, gone forever. However, we decided to keep talking. Sporadic conversations at first. Then, on March 11, 2004; we began to speak more. With time, it was almost like a daily date to meet at night and talk.
I got to know my friend deeply. Those next months, were discovery for us. He got to know me, as well. He used to say that I was nice, cute, depressive. He even called me a good writer. For him, I never had words. To me, Canek was amazing. My friend had bipolar syndrome. He got Aids many years ago. This caused him to go through many difficult situations. He lost his wife, his family. Canek couldn’t get to know his first son, Jesus. It was then that I met him. Little by little he began to tell me about all this.
I still remember when he told me about Marcela, his wife. He spoke of her with such a sweetness and passion at the same time. She was his world. Everything he had wanted. Everything he needed.
In August, 2004; due to the fact that he got very ill (actually, he was in a coma) Marce came back with him. I had never seen him so happy before.
•••now I’m recounting this quickly…•••
I knew he was going to be all right. You’ll see, my friend was afraid of the pain he went through so much, and of dying alone. I could be with him during his crisis, I could share my time with him, giving him comfort, but I wasn’t his wife, and I couldn’t be there with him. That’s why when he told me they were back together, I knew it was going to be all right. By that time, he already called me Luna. After that, he began to call me “Cuxta” it means “life” in nahualt, the language of his ancestors. He used to say that Marce and I brought him back to life from his come. Marce was reading “Eyes” to him when he woke up.
They went to Valladolid to live together a year ago. They had just celebrated their 5th wedding anniversary. God…he was so excited about going there, about feeling the sand underneath his feet. I was so happy for him, for them. Ohh I didn’t say it, I met Marce as well. She’s one of the sweetest people I’ve met. She called me on my birthday last year. She sang “Las Mañanitas” for me, she even gave me “lengüetazos babosientos” (Canek’s kisses..like a dog’s) he heard me, for he’d lost his voice…he said my voice was like a little girl’s.
He blamed it on me that he made love to his wife
“Lunita, what do I do?”
“Make love to your wife, Minino; never stop showing her how much you love her…”
And of course, he blamed it on me that Naidee had been born…and we were both happy with that.
So many memories…and so few words to tell them…
Canek and I could make tantrums to the other. He always complained that he couldn’t reach me. That I was always silent. We sort of invented a way to communicate to each other. He would say “meow” and I would respond “shuuu” (to us, the Moon has no sound, yet the wind does…kinda) he would say “nadixieli” (I love you in nahualt) and I would respond the same way.
I was always jealous of him speaking with other people. I felt like I was losing him. Actually, I told him so the last time we had a fight; a week before his passing. Again, the problem was my silence…his friends…now it was also my new friends…and I told him I’d lost him long ago. I believed he didn’t need me anymore. He had everything he needed. Marce was with him. Naidee his child had already been born. Canek was not alone anymore. He wrote things fore on his blog, I answered them; always hurting each other, until he wrote “I love you Moony!” (te amo lunita!) on his blog and I responded here on lj “I’ve never stopped loving you, Kitten” (Yo nunca he dejado de amarte, Minino)
The last time we talked, all the conversation was about his daughter Naidee, her first typing on the pc, my stories, his I love yous…mine.
A few days later, I found out he was gone…and still today, I haven’t recovered myself from the news. Many people lost a friend…I didn’t only lose a friend. I lost a companion, my Kitten. The one who had me as his moon to meow to.
And not having him around has me deeply wounded. His absence is … *sigh*
Aurore sent me this on a mail, in which she wrote a piece of the Little Prince in French. You’re right. I don’t have wheat, but I still have the Moon and the meowing of cats every night to remember him. You were right, I have found comfort in my memories.
I can’t forget you, and I won’t. Besides, I still have a promise to keep.
Nadixieli, Minino…and nochipa (although this is not mine)
Siempre te tender en mí. Tu eras parte de mi, de mi alma. Eras mi amigo, que encontró la felicidad al final del camino. Yo era la parte verde de tu vida, tu eras a quien yo podía mecer en mi menguante. Eras quien me hacía rabiar y reír al mismo tiempo. Perdóname por no verte allá arriba como un ángel, cuidándome. Estás en todo, porque ya eres parte de todo. Escogimos quedarnos al lado del otro, tu y yo...gracias por ello.
Te amo, mi Minino blanco de las praderas que además eras Yucateco.
El miedo desapareció. Fuiste feliz, y eso ya hace que todo haya valido la pena. Te lo dije, no?
Tu Lunita.
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