If you could pick a favorite "happy place," where would that be?
There are many splendid, fantastic, dreamy places... Surely there are! But, I differ from the idea of looking for a happy place. I think such a thing does not exist. I think, yes, that there are pleasant towns, pleasant environments, beautiful places... I particularly like places by the sea or in the mountains. In high locations I prefer, above all, when there is an extensive panorama, that is; when you can see many other mountains and valleys in the distance and around. By the sea, I like our tropical beaches, with their sun and white sand, their palm trees and their gentle breeze (when there are no hurricanes). There are also frighteningly cold, but contrastingly beautiful sea and mountain landscapes in countries like Norway. I am a consummate militant of an assumed conviction: that to be happy you don't need any person, neither possessions nor particular places...
Being happy is a personal decision that each one can make. Life is full of disappointments, setbacks, disappointments, hardships, difficulties, betrayals and many unpleasant things. Nature gives us the most pleasant places and happiness only happens within us. Within each of us is the key and the door to access happiness. It's just a matter of any of us deciding to take that key, open that door and enter to the best of ourselves. Then that happiness, in addition to enjoying it, you can share it.
Do you have a real-life hero? If so, who would that be and why?
I am not very fond of establishing a status of superiority or of grandiose capacities, beyond what is normal, to any person in this world, more; however, if I had to consider that, despite my opinion, there are always extraordinary beings that stand out from the common and normal behavior with which most people unfold; if I had to choose - of course, from my very particular experience and perspective - I wouldn't hesitate: I choose "Amador Vera".
"Amador" - what a name; Lover!!! Yes, as you read it, "Amador" was his name; and today, 13 years after his departure, I can assure you that he was undoubtedly an Amador.
That was his main extraordinary quality; he was a lover!!!
"Amador" never complained about anything or anyone, I never heard any displeasure word from him. He was always ready to do, to bring, to give; practically leaving very little for himself. Let's say that he was satisfied with the basics for himself and everything else he gave, in this case, to us who were: my sister and I, his stepdaughters and my other five brothers, in addition to my mother.
Mr. Amador did not have much time to waste, then; he took care of working all day until Saturdays and one or two Sundays. Every day he left our house very early and returned, punctually, before 6 in the evenig.
He always came back with sweet bread and salty bread, milk and packaged juice - every day - he never left a day without doing it; just as we did not miss the kiss that he gave each one of us - silent greeting. - Silence that only interrupted to give us God's blessing, when we asked for it. Sometimes he could also bring other charcuterie items, but milk, bread and juice, we never lacked every evenig of our childhood.
It was the most awaited moment; when he arrived we could give a small banquet, an evening snack. And then dinner could wait without further anguish; because in our family we liked to sink our teeth and our hero - Amador - was always willing to please us.
We were doubly lucky: he never bothered to bring us trinkets, sweets. That has helped us a lot in our health, now as adults we owe it that great protection.
He always arrived silent and remained so at all times! Because he was of few words. He always had something to do, something to repair or improve in the house or even in the kitchen, well; if he saw that there were unwashed dishes, he washed them without saying a word, without protesting.
So he kept himself busy until 9 at night, then; he would sit quietly and stay with us until bedtime. Of course, when something or someone stimulated his nostalgia, he began to narrate a story from his past with great passion. He raised his voice, gesticulated and caught our attention that, since we were children, did not last long either, but; he continued talking, transported perhaps to another time and to another place where perhaps he felt very happy.
Over the years, each one of us was making his life and we all separated from home.
Amador was left more and more alone. only one of our brothers attended him. My hero began to suffer from a degenerative disease, which gradually prostrated him, until he ended up in a wheelchair where he remained, now in uninterrupted silence; assisted in all his needs by my brother who accompanied him.
One afternoon in 2009 he passed away. At that time I was moving to a place outside the city, between mountains. I observed an extraordinary phenomenon, in the mountain in front there was a small and narrow valley, on which a very small cloud dropped a rain that formed a rainbow, configuring a very beautiful picture. At that singular moment, I received the call with which I was notified of his death.
Then for several years I religiously attended his grave 2 times each month. Lately I don't do it as often, because Amador is now with me, in my memory, as my one true hero in real life.
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