Every day, when he came in from the street, I would wash his pants and shirt so he could go out the next day to look for work, my mom says smiling.

The two of them bought a house and had five children: Egglys, Nohelys, Rosa, Julio and me, Nancy. The two of them were always a team, a duo, the yin and the yan.

And if I had to describe how they were as a couple, I could say that my father was very affectionate, romantic with my mother. He used to write her poems, bring her gifts and give her lots of tender caresses every day. Mom, on the other hand, was always surly, dry, but very attentive, homely and faithful to my father. Dad was a very flirtatious man, partying, extroverted, attentive with women and that bothered my mother a lot, who got jealous and fought with him. That “Don Juan” character was perhaps the reason for their fights as a couple.

In 2000, after retiring, my parents bought a country house in the village where they had fallen in love to do what they had always dreamed of: to live together there, planting crops and raising animals. But life sometimes plays its cards and they are not the ones we expected to win. So it was that in 2004 my father's two kidneys collapsed and from that moment on he had to be dialyzed three times a week.

During my father's illness, my mother was his pillar, his rock to hold on to, the engine of inspiration that always was for him. They say that love sweeps away everything in its path: that is why she took care of him, protected him, as only a woman in love does, and my father was able to overcome his illness under my mother's care. Of course his children and grandchildren were with him, but my mother was his inseparable companion, his true friend, his beautiful love. Wherever he went, she would accompany him and every afternoon, the two of them would sit side by side, chatting like two great old friends.

_{My parents with their grandchildren}

After twelve years of being sick, my father died and we feared that sadness would finish with my mother, so we tried to make a circle around her, so she would not feel so lonely. At first it was very difficult, every tear was the beginning of a river, but then she accepted it and now she has an altar with my father's photograph, which she kisses and talks to as she did those afternoons when they were together.

Dad and Mom were not meant to be a perfect equation, but the 50 years they were together, they were gloriously happy and very close.

The images are from my personal gallery and the text was translated with Deepl

This is my participation this week for our great friend @ericvancewalton's initiative: Memoir monday. If you want to participate, here's the link to the invitation post

Thank you for reading and commenting. Until a future reading, friends