People of Mexico


Blanca Rosa y Carlos

Amor Chiquito: In This Life and the Next One

By Monica Belen

We are all neighbors of this world for a while.  We come and go incessantly on the journey of living. Sometimes, we coincide with people who yearn for the same thing as us and other times not, but of all of them, of those instants that seem eternal photographs to us -we own experiences and emotions that remain engraved in the depths of our being and that without hesitation accompany us always - in this life and in the next. Like them ...

Her name was Blanca Rosa, or as all her nephews called her: Aunt Rosy, the youngest of eleven siblings who in a distant 1930 had been born in this Mexican land of extreme climate and great mountains called Nuevo León, very far north of Mexico, very near from the far away. Of medium height, deep sea-colored eyes, ivory skin, blonde hair like the sun up to the middle of the back, fine hands and a very beautiful body that showed pronounced curves, she was cheerful but discreet, she did not like to go out with her other sisters to walk downtown from Guadalupe, the town where she was born.  Her brothers dedicated themselves to other tasks that had nothing to do with the house.  Yes her sisters, who over the years had become teachers, followed the steps of the kitchen that their mother taught. She liked the wood stoves, the charcoal loved her, no one like her promptly lit the bonfire that started the delight of taste. 

Her hands were skilled in the art of knowing the natural ingredients that each typical dish of the Mexican north required - el cabrito, frijoles a la charra, especially the delicious chicken tamales.  There were so many talents in the delight of the cuisine that together made it famous among the González family. As time passed, she grew into  a beautiful young woman, woman, and an expert in what was described. Each of her sisters got married, little by little, her brothers too.  She oversaw the wedding banquets, baptisms, confirmations and more. Rosy, with the art of the good palate loved her whole family. With her beautiful face and figure, she captivated many men, and she rejected all of them.  She somehow forgot to "choose" with whom she would share her life. Decades passed, nephews, great-nephews, great-nephews, attended the funerals of her parents, many of her brothers and even the occasional middle-aged young man in the family. She was left with her family properties, including a beautiful house in front of a large school. She was awaiting death at 81 years old until the doorbell rang ...

“Good afternoon, kind lady.”  She leaned out the door. - excuse me for bothering you. I am Javier, one of the bodyguards of the Garza-Sada family.  The youngest son comes to the school in front of us.  Excuse the daring but ... we have  been here five hours would you allow us to use your toilet?” -said the young man sadly.  Waiting for an answer, he leaned against the door. Rosy could not see well, age is heavy, no matter how much she tried, she seemed to see him through a misted glass. “Sorry, I cannot let it pass.” she said with a timid voice, closing the door. “Madam, another voice sounded.-Please excuse us, I am really asking you with great respect and desperation to allow us to use your toile., I will leave you my identification, whatever you need, please.” A chill ran down the back of that 81-year-old woman, that second voice, with authority and sweetness rumbling throughout her being.  She tried to see the man; she quickly searched for her glasses without success.  The man begged again.  Aunt Rosy trembled, not with fear, not dread, but like the stars shimmer in front of the sun. She hurriedly entered the house to look for her glasses, since she went to the door and ... opened.

One by one of the five men passed with respect and neatness to the old woman's house.  She looked for the owner of the second voice. ”Thank you, sweet lady for the support; you saved us.” It was him - she stared at him, as if she recognized him from somewhere, but no, it was the first time she had seen him in her entire life.  “I am Carlos, I am  from Tamaulipas, I have  been here for a month, I work for the family ..”.  “Yes, yes, I know, '' she interrupted nervously, trembling with astonished gaze on that very handsome young man with brown skin, with deep green eyes, 31 years old, dressed in a highly polished gray suit and blue tie.  “We apologize, thank you very much” They left the house. She closed the gate.

At night her favorite niece, Rocío, visited her.  “Aunt, I see you are distracted, are you ok?”  “ nothing darling, I am  very hot, That is  all.”  “ Aunt, but we are in the middle of winter.” So the months passed, the bodyguards in their big black truck kept coming to the school. Rosy followed them from the window of her bedroom with her beautiful blue gaze, restless, thoughtful.  She  could not get that young man out of her mind. One day she went out and offered them water, and the next day she offered them bread, until it was routine to go to Rosy's house for breakfast and lunch five days a week. Carlos, was the youngest and kindest to her. He helped her wash the dishes, clear the table, and clean her house. They were all respectful and generous with the old woman, who every day liked to share with them the art that she had made her famous - cooking.

On several occasions it happened that Carlos's companions witnessed how one finished the other's sentence.  It seemed that there was telepathy between them. On several occasions, Carlos called Rosy at night because he felt that she was sad or ill.

One Saturday, Rocío, like every week, visited her.   “Aunt, you are very busy, is everything okay?” “ -Yes, yes darling.  Hey, I want to ask you a favor, I want you to buy this for me.”  She showed a paper.   “Aunt, but who are these things for?” A sad Aunt Rosy answered,  “For me.” Those things were menstrual pads,and  it was a few months old that for unknown reasons the dear 81-year-old Aunt Rosy felt her insides rejuvenate.  No, make no mistake, nothing physical has happened with that young man; it can only be explained as a hormonal alteration by the emotion of sharing the daily space with him, or at least like that, some explain the inexplicable. Here in Mexico, we have a saying for this type of strange cases: "The hormone was disturbed." Something like something altered her state more, and it could be said that that something was Carlos.

Rocío, the favorite niece, was a confidant of her Aunt Rosy, who shared with her everything that as a woman she came to feel.  “Darling, how is it possible that at my age I cannot stop thinking about this young man? I feel since I heard his voice that I know him; his scent is so familiar to me, as if he had been with me all my life. Darling, am I going crazy? I just saw him and somehow felt everything that I never felt for any man. As if he had always been waiting for it! It is MI AMOR CHIQUITO. The love of my life.” AMOR CHIQUITO, that is what she called it. Rocío could not believe what her beloved aunt Rosy confessed to her.  She listened to her with respect, love and tenderness.  “Aunt, why don't you tell him something?” she asked.  “I do not know, no darling or God forbid, I am an old woman and he is a young man; it is not the time to start anything in a life that is about to end.  I just appreciate having it known, finally.” Although deep within her, the feeling of her as her woman claimed him.

Years passed, until the child they worked for finished school.  On the last day of school, the bodyguards knocked on Rosy's house as usual.  She received them with the expected breakfast. Javier, the boss of all, crying thanked the beautiful woman that she was about to turn 84 years old and like every year that date was the most special to celebrate. They became a kind of family. They all said goodbye, one by one, with tears, gifts for her. Carlos, looked at her, took her left hand and kissed her; that kiss was fervent, like someone who puts his thirsty lips in the water.  His eyes closed at the same time. The trembling tears, clinging to her hand, caressed her palm with his cheek.  He took it between his fingers and brought it to his mouth; he kissed her with tenderness, delicacy, like someone who kisses a subtle flower with fear of breaking its petals, Carlos's legs trembled; he stooped more and more like the powerful man who becomes a child when he stands before the love of his life. “Blanca Rosa, Rosy - he took her face with his right hand, asked her to open her eyes, wiped her tears, approached her right ear, and whispered to her with deep hope,  “In this life and in the other.”  Their gazes met, and with a deep sigh their foreheads touched, their hands intertwined. Her, “Thank you, my treasure.”  He  “In this and the other.”

They said goodbye for a long time without any erotic hint - the scene was the purest and most tender that anyone can imagine. There are boys, no tears, a photo all. And so it was, a photo. Carlos asked for one more photo but alone, next to her. A picture.

A few days passed and as always, the long-awaited visit.  “Daughter, Rocío, I want to ask you a favor.”  “Yes, Aunt, tell me” “ When I die I want you to bury me with this photo.” Aunt, and did she tell you? "No, it will be in the other one."  Aunt Rosy died 15 days after this request. Rocío fulfilled her wish - her eternal rest is accompanied by that photo of HIS LITTLE LOVE of her next to her breast, that love that appeared 81 years later. Yes, Aunt Rosy died in love and corresponded. He attended her funeral; all the relatives of Aunt Blanca Rosa recognized him from the photo, and they wondered who that mysterious man was. Rocío told them that it was Auntie's CHIQUITO LOVE, and they respected it. They were silent when Carlos approached the coffin;  he was wearing a white rose, as was she, and the same gray suit with a blue tie that he wore when he met her. He approached the glass that separated them and murmured,  “In this and in the other…” 

Years later, Rocío met Carlos in a park; he was carrying a boy in his arms and a little 3-year-old girl - they were his children. She told me that while they were talking, the little girl came over.  beautiful, I am Rocío, a friend of your father and what is your name?”  “ Hello, my name is Blanca Rosa, but my father calls me Rosy. “ ... and yes, it was Rosy, her little love.

Señora Blanca Rosa

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