Image created at Midjourney with I. A.
My hero is getting old
When I arrived at the hospital room to pick him up, he was already sitting in a chair next to the bed, waiting for me. Under his feet he had an old Adidas bag, one that had been given to him when he participated in the Pan American boxing games back in 1973. I approached him and, as usual, kissed him on the cheek, which felt cold and smelled strongly of Betadine.
Have you been waiting for me for a long time? -I asked him and without waiting for an answer, I justified myself, "What happened is that I had to take Ana and the baby to the amusement park first. Ana was my wife and our son was 2 years old and that day I took them to a children's party. My dad just nodded his head and grabbed his bag ready to leave the hospital. I tried to take the bag from him, but he proudly grabbed it tightly and quietly said to me:
_I can do it.
We left the room and some nurses approached us. They wanted to say goodbye to my father who, always so gentlemanly, told them:
_You have all been very kind to me. God bless you.
The nurses teased him and told him that although he had been an excellent patient, they didn't want to see him in the hospital anymore. We all laughed and then one of them handed me some papers:
_These are the medications Don Emilio must take and his menu. He must comply with the treatment completely. Any questions or adverse reactions, call immediately," the nurse said and looked me straight in the eye. I felt like when in a competition they hand you a witness and you know that from that moment on, victory or defeat is your responsibility. I just nodded silently. Then Dad and I started walking down the long hallway. With his bag in his hand he looked like a child who has just left school. I realized he was smaller than I remembered and also skinnier: next to him I looked like a giant. I said to him:
_Old man, let me carry the bag, it sure is heavy.
_Fernando, let me carry it. I don't want to feel useless.
I swallowed thickly, as if I had something stuck in my throat, and followed him, walking slowly, step by step.
When we got to the car, he got in the passenger seat and I got behind the wheel. As I drove, I was reminded of my childhood at my father's side. Dad had always been so athletic and so active, and many of the things I knew were because he had taught them to me: riding trees, riding a bike, playing ball. He had always been so patient with me, even though he had often scolded me for my lack of discipline:
_ You have to be responsible, Fernando. With everything you do. If you like something, strive to achieve it. There are things that require seriousness and discipline.
He repeated this to me so many times that discipline and constancy became two of my great virtues. Once, when I was already in high school, a boy much older than me got into the habit of tearing up my books. Although at first I let him do it because I was afraid that the older boy would hit me, at a certain point I got tired and told my father to teach me some boxing techniques. I remember my dad looked at me as if he sensed something and then he told me:
_Remember that you don't assault an underdog and that violence begets violence. i explained that i wouldn't do anything wrong and he started teaching me some pugilistic tricks. We spent weeks practicing, in sunshine and shade, and when I felt ready, I confronted the young hoodlum who was tearing up my notebooks. I remember that I didn't need to lay a hand on him: with just a few jumps and some fist movements, the boy walked away and never again broke my notebooks.
I remembered what the nurse had told me weeks before:
Mr. Emilio needs constant care: his medicine, his food, to be taken care of.
I had talked to Ana and she agreed that Dad should live with us. The problem was to tell him that he would not go back to live alone in his usual house, but that he would go to live with me. My father, who had always been so independent and who did not like to be a burden to anyone, would surely be upset when I informed him of my decision. I had to find the best way to tell him, so after a while I told him:
_You know, old man? I bought her a mini playground for the baby and I'd like us to put it together. Can you help me? Maybe you can also make him a swing like the one you made me when I was a kid. Would you like that? -I asked with trepidation.
My father turned to look at me and his pupils were crystal clear. As if he knew, he answered:
_Yes, I would like it.
From that day on, my father went to live with me in my house and my son and I had the joy of taking care of that hero who fought every battle until the end.
THANK YOU FOR READING AND SEE YOU NEXT TIME, FRIENDS
i