Fiction: Epiphany (Epifanía) [EN/ES]
Epiphany
I woke up with the gentle caress of the sun on my face. The heaviness of sleep still lay on my eyelids and groping the walls I went to the kitchen, looking for a mouthful of coffee that would make me return to the world of the living.
The caffeine was making its way through every fiber of my body, while my cell phone rang. Dizzily I picked up the phone and answered, a warm and familiar voice filtered through the eardrums of my ears. "Hello, Luis. I was calling you to confirm the visit we will be making to our mother's house."
"That's right, I had forgotten. We can go this weekend."
"That's fine with me. It's something we should do."
"Then let's get together on Friday. Hugs, sis."
I hung up the phone and immediately went to get ready to leave for work. Out of my clothes came a small photo, black and white, it was my mother as a young woman, so beautiful and with that warm look that made me shudder. I felt guilty for not having spent more time with her and not being very aware of her life.
My heart crumpled and some tears fell on the old photographic paper, punished by the passage of time. I sighed and went out to meet the routine that had accompanied me for 10 years. The hours flew by and the days flew with them. The long-awaited weekend arrived.
An audio message appeared on my cell phone, it was from my sister. "Hello, Luis. I inform you that I have an inconvenience, I won't be able to be at my mother's house on this day, I will arrive a little later. You can go ahead and I'll see you there. I love you very much."
I took some things and packed my suitcase. I set off with the sunset pointing directly towards the destination I was about to travel to. My heart was a knot of confusion in every breath. As I drove, memories were wrecked in my mind, my beautiful childhood in the care of that woman, devoted to our welfare. A movie of moments passed in front of my silent eyes and at the same time guilt insistently touched my conscience.
After a few hours, I looked at the back of that little town, that small house, with two windows in the front and a mahogany-colored door faded by the passage of time. The white color lifted in some parts and a dark blue baseboard merged with the white in an almost nonexistent line. The moon gave a contrast of nostalgia and melancholy with the small house.
I got out of the car and started walking to that house I had not visited in a long time. I took out the brass key, rusty from lack of use, and entered the place. A blast of sanctified air filled my nostrils and I remembered that smell that made me feel so safe. Darkness sheltered the space that held so many memories.
I looked for the switch and a yellowish light unveiled the secret kept in the zeal of darkness. I saw that set of wooden furniture upholstered with cracked leather and with a red color gnawed by the passage of time. Angels and saints were placed symmetrically throughout the living room and family photos were on each small table.
I sighed with a longing to return to the past and enjoy the company of my dear mother. Then some noises alerted my senses, I ran to the kitchen and saw the light on. I crept closer and out of the rays of light peeked a small figure, with snow-white hair and a slight curvature from the passing of the years.
I was stunned and my words were drowned out by a surprise that overflowed the limits of reason. I took a few steps back and then I heard a voice, that voice that accompanied me for most of my life. "Son, what a joy to see you. You don't know how long I've been waiting for you. You're finally back."
I was still dumbfounded and in that backward walk, I fell into the largest piece of furniture. My body was a tangle of nerves and my eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets. Regaining a bit of lucidity I started to blurt out a few words. "Mother? But... But... what's going on..."
"My cute son, you have come to visit me after such a long time." My mother sat down and placed my head on her lap.
Her tender smile filled me with immense joy and I felt that unconditional love that I had forgotten years ago. The peace that she emanated invaded my whole being and being there in her unconditional lap I rested from so much routine and a life of worries. "Mother, I missed you so much."
"I know you are not happy. Your life full of hustle and bustle and worries have taken away the joy of living. You have become a walking machine that just goes through life without any joy." Her rough, but very loving hand wandered through every hair on my head.
"I'm sorry, mother. My heart won't stop aching. I have forgotten you in this house and selfishly followed this path of materialism and superficialities. I have lost my human essence." Tears were falling non-stop like rain in winter.
"I have nothing to forgive, son. Despite everything I know you love me and you have come here to change and find yourself." Her words comforted me and I began to feel a spiritual relief. She continued to speak to me. "I release you from the heavy burden of your anguish and pain that does not let you live in peace. Come back to life, son. And don't forget that I love you very much."
At that instant, I fell fast asleep. Then, I heard the door open and the light from outside bathed my eyes, I saw a blurry figure and then I shouted, "Mother!"
"Mother? What happened to you, Luis?" It was my sister's voice coming in with a bouquet.
I told her everything I had experienced and she hugged me and then we cried melted in an embrace of sincere love. Then my sister took the bouquet and we headed towards the town cemetery. We stood in front of my mother's grave, looked up at the sky, and finally heard a whisper in the wind. "I love you, children."
The end
Epifanía
Me levantaba con la suave caricia del sol en mi rostro. La pesadez del sueño aún yacía en mis párpados y tanteando las paredes iba hacia la cocina, buscando un bocado de café que me haga volver al mundo de los vivos.
La cafeína hacía su recorrido por cada fibra de mi cuerpo, en tanto sonaba mi celular. Vertiginoso tomaba el teléfono y contestaba, una voz cálida y familiar se filtraba por los tímpanos de mis oídos. «Hola, Luis. Te llamaba para confirmar la visita que haremos a la casa de nuestra madre».
«Es verdad lo había olvidado, me parece bien ir este fin de semana».
«Me parece muy bien. Es algo que debemos hacer».
«Entonces nos reunimos el viernes. Un abrazo, hermana».
Colgué el teléfono he inmediatamente me fui a arreglar para salir al trabajo. De entre mi ropa salió una pequeña foto, a blanco y negro, era mi madre de joven, tan bella y con ese cálido mirar que me hizo estremecer. Me sentía culpable por no haber pasado más tiempo con ella y no estar muy pendiente de su vida.
El corazón se me arrugó y algunas lágrimas cayeron en el viejo papel fotográfico, castigado por el paso del tiempo. Suspiré y salí a encontrarme con la rutina que me había acompañado por 10 años. Las horas pasaban volando y los días junto con ellas. Llegó el fin de semana esperado.
Un mensaje de audio anunció mi celular, era de mi hermana. «Hola, Luis. Te informó que se me presento un inconveniente, no podré estar en la casa de mi madre para este día, llegaré un poco más tarde. Puedes adelantarte y nos vemos allá. Te quiero mucho».
Tomé algunas cosas e hice la maleta. Salí con el ocaso apuntando directamente hacia el destino que iba recorrer. Mi corazón era un nudo de confusiones circundantes en cada pálpito. Mientras conducía los recuerdos naufragaban por mi mente, mi bella infancia al cuidado de aquella mujer, entregada para el bienestar de nosotros. Una película de momentos pasaba frente a mis ojos silentes y al mismo tiempo una culpabilidad tocaba insistentemente mi conciencia.
Después de algunas horas, miré al fondo de aquel pueblito, esa pequeña casa, con dos ventanas en el frente y una puerta color caoba desteñida por el paso del tiempo. El color blanco levantado en algunas partes y un zócalo azul oscuro que se fundía con el blanco en una línea casi inexistente. La luna daba un contraste de nostalgia y melancolía con la pequeña casa.
Bajé del auto y emprendí la caminata hasta aquella casa que no visitaba en largo tiempo. Saqué la llave de latón herrumbrada por la falta de uso y entré en aquel lugar. Un golpe de aire santificado llenó mis fosas nasales y recordé ese olor que me hacía sentir tan seguro. La oscuridad cobijaba el espacio que guardaba tantos recuerdos.
Busqué el interruptor y una luz amarillenta develó el secreto guardado en el celo de las tinieblas. Vi aquel juego de muebles de madera tapizado con un cuero cuarteado, y con un color rojo roído por el paso del tiempo. Ángeles y santos dispuestos de manera simétrica por todo el espacio de la sala y las fotos de la familia en cada mesita.
Suspiré con un anhelo de volver al pasado y disfrutar de la compañía de mi querida madre. Luego unos ruidos alertaron mis sentidos, corrí hacia la cocina y vi la luz prendida. Me acerqué sigilosamente y de entre los rayos lumínicos se asomaba una pequeña figura, de pelo blanco como la nieve y una leve curvatura por el paso de los años.
Quedé atónito y mis palabras fueron ahogadas por una sorpresa que desbordó los límites de la razón. Di unos pasos atrás y luego escuché una voz, esa voz que me acompañó durante la mayor parte de mi vida. «Hijo, que alegría verte. No sabes cuánto te estaba esperando. Finalmente has regresado».
Yo seguía estupefacto y en ese andar hacia atrás caí en el mueble más grande. Mi cuerpo era una maraña de nervios y mis ojos parecían que iban a saltar de sus cuencas. Recobrando un poco la lucidez fui soltando algunas palabras. «¿Madre? Pero... Pero... que está pasando...».
«Mi lindo hijo, me has venido a visitar después de tanto tiempo». Mi madre se sentaba y colocaba mi cabeza en su regazo.
Su tierna sonrisa me lleno de una inmensa alegría y sentí aquel amor incondicional que hacía años había olvidado. La paz que ella emanaba invadió todo mi ser y estando ahí es su incondicional regazo descanse de tanta rutina y una vida de preocupaciones. «Madre, te extrañe tanto».
«Sé que no eres feliz. Tu vida llena de ajetreos y preocupaciones te han quitado la dicha de vivir. Te has convertido en una máquina andante que solo va por la vida sin ninguna alegría». Su mano áspera, pero tan amorosa se paseaba por cada cabello de mi cabeza.
«Lo siento, madre. Mi corazón no me deja de doler. Te he olvidado en esta casa y seguí egoístamente por este camino de materialismo y superficialidades. He perdido mi esencia humana». Las lágrimas caían sin parar como la lluvia en invierno.
«No tengo nada que perdonar, hijo. A pesar de todo sé que me amas y has venido aquí para cambiar y encontrarte a ti mismo, en el pasado, presente y futuro». Sus palabras me reconfortaron y empecé a sentir un alivio espiritual. Ella me siguió hablando. «Te libero de la carga pesada de tu angustia y el dolor que no te deja vivir en paz. Vuelve a la vida, hijo. Y no olvides que te amo mucho».
En ese instante, quedé profundamente dormido. Luego, escuché abrirse la puerta y la luz del exterior baño mis ojos, vi una figura borrosa y luego grite, «¡¡¡Madre!!!».
«¿Madre? ¿Qué te ocurrió?, Luis». Era la voz de mi hermana entrando con un ramo de flores.
Le comenté todo lo vivido y ella me abrazó y luego lloramos fundidos en un abrazo de amor sincero. Después mi hermana tomó el ramo de flores y nos dirigimos hacia el cementerio del pueblo. Nos paramos frente a la tumba de mi madre, miramos al cielo y finalmente escuchamos un susurro en el viento. «Los amo, hijos míos».
Fin
Source 1 Source 2 Source 3
Edited by Rincón Poético.
The text of this post was originally translated from Spanish to English with the translator DeepL
Original content
¡Thanks for you reading!
A very beautiful story and a very executed emotional charge. The ending was something beautiful although melancholic, it seems that Luis is still looking for that peace that he longs for and that reconciliation with his mother. Excellent story, friend.
Thank you for stopping by and leaving your kind comment. I'm glad you liked the story.
Good day.
A sentimental piece that takes us on the inner journey of a man coming to terms with the loss of his mother. The story has a great setting that is enhanced by the little moments like this one,
This has a very nostalgic feel. Black and white photos are a technology that faded with time, and this resonates well with the story.
The one tricky situation is explaining why he had this vision to begin with.
If my interpretation is correct, it appears to imply that "it was all a dream." If this is the case, then I would recommend avoiding it because it has been overused in English fiction.
I enjoyed reading this story because it touches the heart strings and we can readily identify with the protagonist as he juggles many emotions. Well done!
Thank you for stopping by and leaving such a great comment, I feel honored to receive such an in-depth analysis of my story.
It really wasn't a dream, I took it as a vision. Luis found relief from his pain in the apparition. In the end I emphasize that it was not a dream when the children heard their mother's voice.
A hugs friend.
This is a good point. The visit then is a real spiritual vision, and this is a better resolution to the story. 👍
One must be prepared in life for events that may not have a rational explanation, it seems. Readers might ask if Luis was dreaming, or imagining his mother's presence. But, as you present the story
Sleep comes after the encounter. Does this lead us to question the 'reality' of the experience? Yes, but it's OK to have a question.
You create mood wonderfully here. It is important for us to see your mother's house. It is more than a mood. It is a place with deep emotional memory, and every bit of it evokes something from the past.
It's a great story. It seems the last sentence, «Los amo, hijos míos», is translated incorrectly. In the context of the story it seems clear that the translation should be "I love you, children", not sons. Perhaps (if that interpretation is correct) you would want to edit for your English language readers.
Thank you for sharing this story with us, @rinconpoetico7
Thank you for stopping by and leaving your nice comment for the story. I am very happy to receive this analysis of the work, I enjoyed writing it and it was very emotional for me.
I didn't take it as a dream, but as a vision. I was inspired by the beliefs that exist here, when a person has a burden of conscience or deep pain, He receives a vision of a deceased loved one and reveals the truth to calm his distraught soul. When the entity disappears, the body reacts by remaining in a state of deep sleep, here they say that the person is 'deprive'.
Thanks for the correction, I'll change the word.
A hugs!
That was a real experience, wasn't it? In all of that, I love the sweet undertone of this story. It reminds me of my mother. She had such a delicious aura that brought peace.
Well done
Thank you for stopping by and leaving your kind comment. I'm so glad it reminded you of your mother. They always have that special aura towards their children.
I took it with a real experience, the vision of a mother towards her distressed son and from beyond she wants to give him the calm he seeks so much. I wanted to give the story that paranormal touch.
Happy day.
That is exactly what you did to this piece. Justice.
It's amazing to know our parents still serve as guardians and protectors even after life. They understand the pain of life and the encounter was a relief. Great story