In the early years of my childhood, when I was beginning to understand the differences between good and bad, I always heard how adults (family and friends) talked about my mother and used the term bastard son to refer to me.
I felt for many years how that phrase marked my thinking and I lived my whole life with the question, What difference was there between my friends, my closest relatives and me?
As I entered adolescence, I acquired a greater understanding of the term, and although I did not have the opportunity to go to school, it was life and its eagerness that gave me the necessary maturity to understand it.
The term bastard is used as a synonym for illegitimate, false, vile, infamous, low. Therefore, the word under study can be used in different contexts. Bastard is used to refer to something that vitiates its origin or nature, that is, moved away from its original characteristics.
Image Illegitimate son or bastard:
The term bastard is automatically associated with the illegitimate child, so it is an adjective, which is applied in a derogatory way to refer to the child born out of wedlock, known or unknown father.
Formerly, bastard children did not have the same rights as legitimate children. This can be observed in different cultures and even in the Bible. They did not inherit, were condemned and sold as slaves, and Justinian's laws denied even food. In other cultures, acts against bastards were not as violent, as was the case in the countries of Spain, France, among others, had the right to inherit and the lordships had an obligation to pay for their studies.
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My mother, Amelia, was a hard-working woman with an immense desire to live. She suffered until the end of his days from a terrible mental illness that began being temporarily but eventually became aggravated and became permanent. She was a country woman, the fourth daughter of a marriage. She did not have the education that her brothers and sisters received because of her illness. She became pregnant in her adolescent years, perhaps because of her innocence, her illness or the promise of sincere love. Because of that son who had been conceived outside a marriage and given the prejudices of the society of those times to give him a name, she was removed from his privileges and sent to live in the house of one of her aunts, despite the mistake she had made. Now I understand as clearly as many of us make those same mistakes.
We are certainly implacable judges when the lives of others are concerned. The criticism is good when it is constructive. I'm sure life would have been different for her to have received the rightful support, but the wisdom of God is infinite.
Like her, once I arrived in the world, I was seen and received with apprehension. I did not perceive it until I entered a certain age in which I saw how I had limitations to play, with whom to play and what toys to play. In these indiscreet conversations, I had to listen to the term bastard son, which although I did not understand clearly, I felt it in my mind and heart as if they were referring to an abominable being to fear.
If we only felt for an instant what it meant to be pointed out contemptuously by members of our family, they would surely understand, reflect, and do not have such behavior.
My journey has been long, and although I was a child, I have never forgotten it. I have forgiven those whom I have forgiven. Life gives so many laps, one day in this story that I tell, I was the support of those who turned their backs on us. We should not keep grudges, but we must live to the full satisfaction of those moments in which we teach others what we are made of and that we are better than they think.
I had the Divine privilege of taking care of my mother until the end of her days. I did not know my father until I had my own family. I was curious to know who he was so at my 40 springs I decided to meet him, but that is another story.
I wanted to share part of this story of my life in honor of my mother. The most beautiful woman I have ever met.
