This is my post for #freewriters 2814prompt "no more abuse" hosted by
The word botton it makes me remember those moments when I was young. I'm talking about many years ago, when I was maybe 15 or 14 years old and I had to put on those shirts that had many buttons.
I remember that those buttons were white and they were like marbled.
They had that color that was so attractive. And I was just a child who was leaving his childhood and entering the part of adolescence. I remember this moment because this came to my mind when I was doing my first communion.
In a very well-known church in Altamira, the church of Don Juan Bosco or Don Bosco. I remember that I attended the catechism classes that were preparing me for the first communion.
And the priests who were in charge of us were a group of young people.
Well, children who were already starting to be young, with ages from 12 to 15 years old. I even remember that there was an older one who had not done the communion and he was the oldest of the group, he was 17 years old.
And the fact is that these priests always told us and asked us to button our shirts.
It was a mandatory rule to be able to enter the catechism class, that we had shirts and that we had buttoned our shirts. And I remember that they had bought me a shirt that made me feel quite ridiculous. It was a shirt that had this type of neck that looked like a priest's neck, a completely closed neck.
And I had short hair and when I put on this shirt to go to the catechism class, it made me feel like I was hanged. And I looked really ridiculous. In those days I felt like I was gay.
I was not gay, obviously, but my appearance made me look like a monk and I saw myself in my mind as someone who was very gay, very homosexual.
And I felt uncomfortable when I saw myself that way. For all the education that my father had given me, that he was very macho, seeing myself that way, I lacked masculinity.
And of course, I never got to comment on this to the priests, but it is something that I remember.
And I always remember the priest saying the word to the nun who checked us before entering the catechism class, because we had to be clean-shaven, with our hands and fingers clean, our nails clean, and with our clothes in a suitable state to be able to attend the class.
I remember that the classes were once a week and they were next to the church, in a place that was the library in those days of the church.
And it was a very peaceful place, very quiet, with some benches and a park. And the place was quite pleasant, it was very clean and it had a very particular smell, that smell like the church, which is a smell that mixes chlorine and burnt wax.
And for a child, this was very pleasant.
The environment always in this place is something that I will always remember, and that brings me good memories in my mind when speaking about this word, botton it means burnt wax and the smell of the church for me, and good memories of the beginnings of my youth.
La palabra "abotónalo" me hace recordar aquellos momentos cuando era joven. Hablo de hace muchos años, cuando tenía quizás 15 o 14 años y tenía que ponerme esas camisas que tenían muchos botones.
Recuerdo que esos botones eran blancos y eran como marmoleados.
Tenían ese color que era tan atractivo. Y yo era solo un niño que estaba dejando su infancia y entrando en la parte de la adolescencia. Recuerdo este momento porque vino a mi mente cuando estaba haciendo mi primera comunión.
En una iglesia muy conocida en Altamira, la iglesia de Don Juan Bosco o Don Bosco. Recuerdo que asistía a las clases de catecismo que me preparaban para la primera comunión.
Y los sacerdotes que estaban a cargo de nosotros eran un grupo de jóvenes.
Bueno, niños que ya empezaban a ser jóvenes, con edades de 12 a 15 años. Incluso recuerdo que había uno mayor que no había hecho la comunión y era el más viejo del grupo, tenía 17 años.
Y el hecho es que estos sacerdotes siempre nos decían y nos pedían que abotonáramos nuestras camisas.
Era una regla obligatoria para poder entrar a la clase de catecismo, que tuviéramos camisas y que las tuviéramos abotonadas. Y recuerdo que me habían comprado una camisa que me hacía sentir bastante ridículo. Era una camisa que tenía ese tipo de cuello que parecía el cuello de un sacerdote, un cuello completamente cerrado.
Y yo tenía el pelo corto y cuando me ponía esta camisa para ir a la clase de catecismo, me hacía sentir como si estuviera ahorcado. Y me veía realmente ridículo. En esos días me sentía como si fuera gay.
No era gay, obviamente, pero mi apariencia me hacía parecer un monje y me veía en mi mente como alguien muy gay, muy homosexual.
Y me sentía incómodo cuando me veía así. Por toda la educación que mi padre me había dado, que era muy macho, verme de esa manera, me faltaba masculinidad.
Y, claro, nunca llegué a comentar esto con los sacerdotes, pero es algo que recuerdo.
Y siempre recuerdo al sacerdote diciéndole la palabra "abotónalo" a la monja que nos revisaba antes de entrar a la clase de catecismo, porque teníamos que estar bien afeitados, con las manos y los dedos limpios, las uñas limpias y con la ropa en un estado adecuado para poder asistir a la clase.
Recuerdo que las clases eran una vez por semana y estaban al lado de la iglesia, en un lugar que era la biblioteca en esos días de la iglesia.
Y era un lugar muy tranquilo, muy silencioso, con algunos bancos y un parque. Y el lugar era bastante agradable, estaba muy limpio y tenía un olor muy particular, ese olor como a iglesia, que es un olor que mezcla cloro y cera quemada.
Y para un niño, esto era muy placentero.
El ambiente siempre en este lugar es algo que siempre recordaré, y que me trae buenos recuerdos en mi mente al hablar de esta palabra, "abotónalo" significa cera quemada y el olor de la iglesia para mí, y buenos recuerdos de los inicios de mi juventud.
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This is my black cat "manclar", this hive name account is to honor his dead (it happened years ago).
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