...5...  philosophising  part  five...  (  5  out  of  18  )...
Autor: luis antonio freire | Publicado: 2011-07-08T15:00:00-07:00

dear &nbsp;son &nbsp;taue…
dear &nbsp;son &nbsp;peter…

we &nbsp;were &nbsp;in &nbsp;recife &nbsp;at &nbsp;age &nbsp;10…
watching &nbsp;soap-opera &nbsp;with &nbsp;my &nbsp;cousin &nbsp;mariana…
( who &nbsp;was &nbsp;18 &nbsp;at &nbsp;that &nbsp;time…)
and &nbsp;my &nbsp;grandmother’s &nbsp;sister… &nbsp; tia &nbsp;lurdes…
and &nbsp;my &nbsp;grandmother… &nbsp;mother &nbsp;of &nbsp; my &nbsp;father…
who &nbsp;was &nbsp;pretty &nbsp;well &nbsp;healthwise…
( she &nbsp;passed &nbsp;away &nbsp;two &nbsp;or &nbsp;three &nbsp;years &nbsp;later…)

they &nbsp;were &nbsp;my &nbsp;only &nbsp;companions &nbsp;there…
because… &nbsp;as &nbsp;I &nbsp;mentioned &nbsp;before…
I &nbsp;had &nbsp;travelled &nbsp;from &nbsp;rio &nbsp;to &nbsp;recife &nbsp;earlier &nbsp;than &nbsp;my &nbsp;parents &nbsp;and &nbsp;brothers &nbsp;did…
so &nbsp;I &nbsp;could &nbsp;do &nbsp;the &nbsp;admission-exam &nbsp;to &nbsp;the &nbsp;middle-school…
which &nbsp;happened &nbsp;on &nbsp;a &nbsp;time &nbsp;earlier &nbsp;than &nbsp;the &nbsp;one &nbsp;scheduled &nbsp;by &nbsp;my &nbsp;parents…
to &nbsp;move &nbsp;from &nbsp;rio &nbsp;to &nbsp;recife…

to &nbsp;me… &nbsp;those &nbsp;times… &nbsp;were &nbsp;interesting…
in &nbsp;the &nbsp;sense &nbsp;of &nbsp;finding &nbsp;myself… &nbsp;for &nbsp;the &nbsp;first &nbsp;time &nbsp;in &nbsp;my &nbsp;life…
distant &nbsp;from &nbsp;my &nbsp;brother… &nbsp;sisters… &nbsp;and &nbsp;parents…

I &nbsp;found &nbsp;myself &nbsp;in &nbsp;the &nbsp;companion &nbsp;of &nbsp;two &nbsp;nice &nbsp;old-ladies…
( my &nbsp;grandmother… &nbsp;and &nbsp;her &nbsp;sister… &nbsp;tia &nbsp;lurdes…)
in &nbsp;a &nbsp;house &nbsp;with &nbsp;a &nbsp;super-good &nbsp;mood… &nbsp; very &nbsp;calm…
with &nbsp;that &nbsp;kind &nbsp;of &nbsp;good-mood &nbsp;typical &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;northeast-part-of-the-country…
( different &nbsp;from &nbsp;rio-de-janeiro...)
a &nbsp;house... &nbsp;where &nbsp;everything &nbsp;functioned &nbsp;without &nbsp;stress…

there &nbsp;wasn’t &nbsp;those &nbsp;eternal &nbsp;fighting &nbsp;between &nbsp;my &nbsp;father &nbsp;and &nbsp;my &nbsp;mother… &nbsp;anymore…
there &nbsp;wasn’t &nbsp;that &nbsp;monotony &nbsp;typical &nbsp;of &nbsp;rio-de-janeiro…
… &nbsp;immersed &nbsp;in &nbsp;those &nbsp;environments &nbsp;full &nbsp;of &nbsp;concrete… &nbsp;of &nbsp;appartments…
… &nbsp;together &nbsp;with &nbsp;a &nbsp;total &nbsp;absence &nbsp;of &nbsp;dirt-ground… &nbsp; and &nbsp;trees…

in &nbsp;contrast… &nbsp;there… &nbsp;in &nbsp;my &nbsp;grandmother’s &nbsp;house…
I &nbsp;felt &nbsp;like &nbsp;I &nbsp;was &nbsp;in &nbsp;paradise…
the &nbsp;house &nbsp;was &nbsp;inside &nbsp;a &nbsp;huge &nbsp;big &nbsp;yard… &nbsp;full &nbsp;of &nbsp;trees… 
I &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;spend &nbsp;all &nbsp;day &nbsp;doing &nbsp;nothing…
climbing &nbsp;and &nbsp;then &nbsp;sitting &nbsp;for &nbsp;a &nbsp;long &nbsp;time… 
on &nbsp;the &nbsp;branches &nbsp;of &nbsp;certain &nbsp;trees…
specially &nbsp;the &nbsp;rose-apple-tree… &nbsp; &nbsp;( the &nbsp;“jambo” &nbsp;tree )…

at &nbsp;this &nbsp;age… &nbsp;( ten-years-old )… 
all &nbsp;that &nbsp;a &nbsp;child &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;live &nbsp;in &nbsp;an &nbsp;apartment… &nbsp; wants…
is &nbsp;to &nbsp;be &nbsp;able &nbsp;to &nbsp;enjoy &nbsp;nature… &nbsp; to &nbsp;climb &nbsp;the &nbsp;trees…
to &nbsp;walk &nbsp;barefoot…

and… &nbsp;the &nbsp;interesting &nbsp;part &nbsp;is… &nbsp; those &nbsp;weren’t &nbsp;trees &nbsp;outside... &nbsp;far &nbsp;in &nbsp;the &nbsp;neighborhood...
or... &nbsp;in &nbsp;a &nbsp;public &nbsp;place &nbsp;where &nbsp;everyone &nbsp;could &nbsp;pass &nbsp;by…
the &nbsp;trees &nbsp;were &nbsp;located &nbsp;inside &nbsp;my &nbsp;grandmother’s &nbsp;yard…
in &nbsp;her &nbsp;property… &nbsp; &nbsp;it &nbsp;wasn’t &nbsp;a &nbsp;public &nbsp;place…
it &nbsp;was &nbsp;like &nbsp;a &nbsp;private &nbsp;paradise &nbsp;immersed &nbsp;in &nbsp;the &nbsp;world…
but… &nbsp;at &nbsp;the &nbsp;same &nbsp;time… &nbsp;with &nbsp;a &nbsp;total &nbsp;privacy… &nbsp;protected &nbsp;by &nbsp;a &nbsp;(short ) &nbsp;wall…
which &nbsp;delineated &nbsp;the &nbsp;border &nbsp;between &nbsp;that &nbsp;private &nbsp;“sanctuary”…
and &nbsp;the &nbsp;confusion &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;world &nbsp;outside…
where &nbsp;there &nbsp;was &nbsp;an &nbsp;already &nbsp;present… &nbsp;traffic… &nbsp;pollution… &nbsp;bad-vibes… &nbsp;etc…
those &nbsp;things &nbsp;which… &nbsp;today… &nbsp;we &nbsp;are &nbsp;so &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;deal &nbsp;with… 

and &nbsp;the &nbsp;yard &nbsp;was &nbsp;simply… &nbsp;huge…
something &nbsp;really &nbsp;gigantic…
I &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;climb &nbsp;each &nbsp;tree…
as &nbsp;if &nbsp;they &nbsp;were &nbsp;living &nbsp;things… &nbsp;( and… &nbsp;indeed… &nbsp;they &nbsp;are…)
I &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;climb &nbsp;it’s &nbsp;branches… &nbsp;conquering &nbsp;each &nbsp;region &nbsp;of &nbsp;its &nbsp;interior…
the &nbsp;goal &nbsp;was &nbsp;always &nbsp;to &nbsp;reach &nbsp;the &nbsp;highest &nbsp;branches…

but… &nbsp;as &nbsp;time &nbsp;passed &nbsp;by… &nbsp;I &nbsp;learned… &nbsp;that &nbsp;each &nbsp;tree &nbsp;had &nbsp;its &nbsp;own &nbsp;secrets:
it &nbsp;liked &nbsp;to &nbsp;be &nbsp;climbed…
but &nbsp;the &nbsp;process &nbsp;of &nbsp;climbing… &nbsp;had &nbsp;its &nbsp;own &nbsp;limits…
each &nbsp;tree &nbsp;had &nbsp;its &nbsp;ideal-point &nbsp;of &nbsp;climbing…
beyond &nbsp;that &nbsp;point… &nbsp;its &nbsp;branch &nbsp;would &nbsp;get &nbsp;thinner… &nbsp;and &nbsp;thinner…
and &nbsp;the &nbsp;fall &nbsp;would &nbsp;be… &nbsp;certainly… &nbsp;unavoidable…

--- &nbsp; --- &nbsp; ---

I &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;write &nbsp;to &nbsp;one &nbsp;of &nbsp;my &nbsp;friends &nbsp;in &nbsp;rio-de-janeiro…
telling &nbsp;him &nbsp;how &nbsp;good &nbsp;it &nbsp;is &nbsp;to &nbsp;climb &nbsp;the &nbsp;trees…
he &nbsp;replied &nbsp;to &nbsp;me… &nbsp;telling... &nbsp;in &nbsp;details…
how &nbsp;the &nbsp;goal &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;flamengo-soccer-team &nbsp;did &nbsp;happen…
with &nbsp;illustrative &nbsp;sketches &nbsp;drawn &nbsp;by &nbsp;himself…
describing &nbsp;through &nbsp;a &nbsp;dotted &nbsp;line…
the &nbsp;trajectory &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;ball &nbsp;towards &nbsp;the &nbsp;goal…

as &nbsp;I &nbsp;read &nbsp;his &nbsp;letter… &nbsp;I &nbsp;could &nbsp;start &nbsp;realizing…
how &nbsp;different &nbsp;our &nbsp;universes &nbsp;were…
in &nbsp;the &nbsp;sense &nbsp;of &nbsp;what &nbsp;I &nbsp;really &nbsp;liked…
and &nbsp;what &nbsp;my &nbsp;friend &nbsp;liked…

the &nbsp;world &nbsp;for &nbsp;him... &nbsp;was… &nbsp;soccer…
for &nbsp;me… &nbsp;I &nbsp;wasn’t &nbsp;much &nbsp;caring…
to &nbsp;see &nbsp;how &nbsp;was &nbsp;the &nbsp;shape &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;trajectory... 
which &nbsp;conducted &nbsp;the &nbsp;ball...
to &nbsp;the &nbsp;goal &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;flamengo-team...

what &nbsp;really &nbsp;did &nbsp;make &nbsp;me &nbsp;feel &nbsp; happy…
was &nbsp;to &nbsp;be &nbsp;able &nbsp;to &nbsp;enjoy &nbsp;the &nbsp;harmony &nbsp;I &nbsp;was &nbsp;experiencing...
inside &nbsp;an &nbsp;enormous &nbsp;tree… &nbsp; way &nbsp;up &nbsp;there…
feeling &nbsp;the &nbsp;wind &nbsp;to &nbsp;swing &nbsp;its &nbsp;branches…
feeling &nbsp;a &nbsp;happiness &nbsp;which &nbsp;I &nbsp;had &nbsp;never &nbsp;felt &nbsp;in &nbsp;my &nbsp;life…
the &nbsp;happiness &nbsp;of &nbsp;being &nbsp;able &nbsp;to &nbsp;play &nbsp;in &nbsp;an &nbsp;yard &nbsp;like &nbsp;that…
barefoot…
in &nbsp;the &nbsp;peaceful &nbsp;mood &nbsp;of &nbsp;my &nbsp;grandmother’s &nbsp;house…

--- &nbsp; --- &nbsp; ---

at &nbsp;night… &nbsp;after &nbsp;a &nbsp;nice-little-beans-soup &nbsp;with &nbsp;spaghetti &nbsp;strips…
and &nbsp;with &nbsp;a &nbsp;nice-little-taste &nbsp;of &nbsp;“coentro”… 
&nbsp;( an &nbsp;herb &nbsp;typical &nbsp;from &nbsp;the &nbsp;northeast-part-of-the-country…)
it &nbsp;was &nbsp;time &nbsp;to &nbsp;watch &nbsp;television…
with &nbsp;my &nbsp;cousin… &nbsp;my &nbsp;grandmother… &nbsp;and &nbsp; her &nbsp;sister &nbsp;tia &nbsp;lurdes…

tia &nbsp;lurdes &nbsp;had &nbsp;broken &nbsp;her &nbsp;ankle…
it &nbsp;was &nbsp;at &nbsp;the &nbsp;bus-stop…
the &nbsp;bus &nbsp;took &nbsp;off… &nbsp;squeezing &nbsp;her &nbsp;ankle…
between &nbsp;the &nbsp;bus-wheel &nbsp; and &nbsp;the &nbsp;side-walk…
she &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;spend &nbsp;all &nbsp;day &nbsp;sitting…
in &nbsp;front &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;television…
with &nbsp;the &nbsp;leg &nbsp;in &nbsp;a &nbsp;plaster-cast…

sometimes &nbsp;she &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;cry…
one &nbsp;day &nbsp;when &nbsp;she &nbsp;was &nbsp;crying…
my &nbsp;cousin &nbsp;mariana &nbsp;arrived &nbsp;closed &nbsp;to &nbsp;her…
and &nbsp;hugged &nbsp;her…
comforting &nbsp;her…

this &nbsp;scene &nbsp;was &nbsp;kept &nbsp;in &nbsp;my &nbsp;memory…
I &nbsp;found &nbsp;it &nbsp;very &nbsp;beautiful… 
the &nbsp;scene &nbsp;of &nbsp;someone &nbsp;comforting &nbsp;the &nbsp;other &nbsp;one &nbsp;in &nbsp;her &nbsp;suffering…
I &nbsp;wasn’t &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;see &nbsp;scenes &nbsp;of &nbsp;this &nbsp;kind…
my &nbsp;parents &nbsp;didn’t &nbsp;have &nbsp;the &nbsp;habit &nbsp;of &nbsp;hugging &nbsp;each &nbsp;other…
and... &nbsp;my &nbsp;brother &nbsp;and &nbsp;sisters… &nbsp;neither...
so… &nbsp;this &nbsp;scene &nbsp;was &nbsp;like &nbsp;something &nbsp;new &nbsp;to &nbsp;me…

--- &nbsp; --- &nbsp; ---

I &nbsp;was &nbsp;ten &nbsp;years-old…
my &nbsp;cousin… &nbsp; eighteen…
one &nbsp;day &nbsp;she &nbsp;invited &nbsp;me &nbsp;to &nbsp;go &nbsp;out &nbsp;with &nbsp;her… &nbsp;and &nbsp;her &nbsp;boyfriend… &nbsp;erick…
who &nbsp;had &nbsp;the &nbsp;habit &nbsp;of &nbsp;going &nbsp;out &nbsp;with &nbsp;her &nbsp;in &nbsp;a &nbsp;certain &nbsp;day…
once &nbsp;in &nbsp;a &nbsp;week… &nbsp;at &nbsp;night…

he &nbsp;came &nbsp;over &nbsp;to &nbsp;pick &nbsp;us &nbsp;up &nbsp;at &nbsp;home… 
with &nbsp;his &nbsp;cool… neat… &nbsp;volkswagen-bug…
very &nbsp;shiny…
he &nbsp;also… &nbsp;all &nbsp;neat… and &nbsp;bathed…
really &nbsp;well-shaved… &nbsp;with &nbsp;a &nbsp;certain &nbsp;parfum…
ready &nbsp;to &nbsp;date…

as &nbsp;we &nbsp;got &nbsp;into &nbsp;his &nbsp;car…
him… &nbsp;on &nbsp;the &nbsp;driver’s &nbsp;seat…
my &nbsp;cousin… &nbsp;on &nbsp;the &nbsp;passenger-seat…
and &nbsp;me… &nbsp;on &nbsp;the &nbsp;back-seat…

about &nbsp;thirty-seconds &nbsp;later… 
after &nbsp;we &nbsp;were &nbsp;all &nbsp;accommodated &nbsp; on &nbsp;our &nbsp;respective &nbsp;places…
and &nbsp;the &nbsp;car &nbsp;already &nbsp;moving &nbsp;on &nbsp;the &nbsp;road…
erick &nbsp;says &nbsp;to &nbsp;my &nbsp;cousin…
… &nbsp;" it &nbsp;seems &nbsp;like &nbsp;you’re &nbsp;acting &nbsp;differently &nbsp;tonight "…
at &nbsp;this &nbsp;point &nbsp;she &nbsp;comes &nbsp;closer &nbsp;and &nbsp;gives &nbsp;him… &nbsp;a &nbsp;true-love-kiss…
very &nbsp;slowly…

and &nbsp;I… &nbsp;who &nbsp;wasn’t &nbsp;very &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;see &nbsp;such &nbsp;scenes…
for &nbsp;me… &nbsp;it &nbsp;was &nbsp;like &nbsp;a &nbsp;sort &nbsp;of &nbsp; “shock”… &nbsp;in &nbsp;the &nbsp;good-sense &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;word…
then… &nbsp;I &nbsp;started &nbsp;thinking &nbsp;to &nbsp;myself…
that &nbsp;she &nbsp;didn’t &nbsp;start &nbsp;kissing &nbsp;him &nbsp;from &nbsp;the &nbsp;very &nbsp;beginning… &nbsp;( as &nbsp;usual…)
probably &nbsp;because &nbsp;of &nbsp;my &nbsp;presence…
but… &nbsp;as &nbsp;soon &nbsp;as &nbsp;he &nbsp;gave &nbsp;her &nbsp;the &nbsp;hint…
( “ it &nbsp;seems &nbsp;like &nbsp;you’re &nbsp;acting &nbsp;differently &nbsp;tonight”…)
she &nbsp;let &nbsp;her &nbsp;shyness &nbsp;go &nbsp;away…
and &nbsp;acted &nbsp;normally… &nbsp;as &nbsp;usual…

I &nbsp;realized &nbsp;immediately… &nbsp;how &nbsp;pleasant &nbsp;it &nbsp;must &nbsp;be… &nbsp;to &nbsp;go &nbsp;on &nbsp;a &nbsp;date… 

--- &nbsp; --- &nbsp; ---

a &nbsp;few &nbsp;days &nbsp;later… &nbsp;my &nbsp;family… &nbsp;my &nbsp;parents… &nbsp;my &nbsp;brothers…
arrived &nbsp;from &nbsp;rio-de-janeiro…
my &nbsp;old &nbsp;family…
in &nbsp;the &nbsp;new-paradise: &nbsp; in &nbsp;my &nbsp;grandmother’s &nbsp;house…

full &nbsp;of &nbsp;trees…

but &nbsp;my &nbsp;family… &nbsp;wasn´t &nbsp;too &nbsp;much &nbsp;caring &nbsp;about &nbsp;the &nbsp;trees…
my &nbsp;father’s &nbsp;obsession &nbsp;was &nbsp;to &nbsp;be &nbsp;able &nbsp;to &nbsp;transform &nbsp;my &nbsp;sister &nbsp;ana emilia…
into &nbsp;a &nbsp;new &nbsp;world-record-champion &nbsp;in &nbsp;the &nbsp;swimming-sport… 

should &nbsp;we &nbsp;stop &nbsp;here…?
we &nbsp;should &nbsp;stop &nbsp;here…

a &nbsp;big &nbsp;hug &nbsp;on &nbsp;both &nbsp;of &nbsp;you…
with &nbsp;tenderness…
your &nbsp;father…
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;…luis antonio...