The Spy

The Spy
Juan Moisés De La Serna

The silence had already taken hold of each of the rooms in the house, so much that sometimes it was difficult for me to go there, where so many things had happened in the family. The silence had already taken hold of each of the rooms in the house, so much that sometimes it was difficult for me to go there, where so many things had happened in the family. At the beginning I turned on the television or the radio, to listen to a voice wherever I was in the house, and that made me feel better, but then, it seemed so absurd, deceiving myself, it was like I was with somebody, when there was nobody left. Joys, sorrows and sadness, listened in every corner of that home, in which my wife had always worked with such care to maintain order and cleanliness.

Juan Moisés de la Serna

The Spy

The

SPY

Juan Moisés de la Serna

Translated by Annibale Marsili

Editorial Tektime

2020

"The spy"

Written by Juan Moisés de la Serna

Translated by Annibale Marsili

1st edition: may 2020

© Juan Moisés de la Serna, 2020

© Tektime Editions, 2020

All rights reserved

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Preface

The silence had already taken hold of each of the rooms in the house, so much that sometimes it was difficult for me to go there, where so many things had happened in the family.

At the beginning, I turned on the television or the radio, to listen to a voice wherever I was in the house, and that comforted me, but then, it seemed so absurd, deceiving myself, doing as if I was accompanied, when there was nobody left.

Joys, sorrows and sadness, listened in every corner of that home, in which my wife had always worked with such care to maintain order and cleanliness.

There are moments in life
that we have to catch
keeping them with great affection
and try not to forget.
But never let's hope
that is always the same
if memory fails us
the memories will go away.
As much as let's pretend
to try to remember
"a bad air" took them away
and won't come back to us.
Memories and more memories
fall already into oblivion
since the memory as soon as
took them, they are gone.

    LOVE

Dedicated to my parents

Chapter 1. The Memory

The silence had already taken hold of each of the rooms in the house, so much that sometimes it was difficult for me to go there, where so many things had happened in the family.

At the beginning I turned on the television or the radio, to listen to a voice wherever I was in the house, and that make me feel better, but then, it seemed so absurd, deceiving myself, it was like I was with somebody, when there was nobody left.

Joys, sorrows and sadness, listened in every corner of that home, in which my wife had always worked with such care to maintain order and cleanliness.

Gradually I was closing the rooms, those which I didn't use at all, or those which brought me so many experienced memories just by seeing, most of them joyful, which strangely caused me great suffering, perhaps because I longed for them, or maybe because of the certainty that wouldn’t be repeated anymore, that everything that I lived there, would remain only in my memory, as long as it lasted.

Even though I told my wife repeatedly to move somewhere else, either because of work or retirement, she always said no, her place was where her memories remained, there she had seen her children grow up, and he knew the whole neighborhood, and that made him feel at ease.

For some strange reason she preferred to leave, as she said, "things as they were", without changing anything in the house, not a single picture or photograph, and when I asked why she just said, "that's fine".

I had been having trouble leaving on vacation, since on several occasions, when we were older and our sons had already moved out, when we were both alone, nevertheless, she always hoped someone appearing in the house, and finding reasons because she didn’t want to stay away from that place more than two or three days.

But how were they going to appear? If some of them lived in other continents, and with the one closest to us, we hardly kept in touch after we had that discussion.

It's something of which I still regret, not so much because it was completely unnecessary, but rather to the consequences it had in our relationship. Since then my wife looked at me in a different way, I know I was right, that our son was wrong, but she, as a mother, didn't understand why I didn't support our son when he needed.

For me her loss was the most difficult thing, just thinking to that moment, I can barely breathe, so many years of coexistence, although not always peaceful, there was always a lot of love and respect between us.

In recent years, we almost had separate lives, but we respected each other, we loved each other, but each one tried to develop their own activities without counting on the other, unlike when we met that we wanted to do everything together, and be sharing as much time as possible.

Perhaps it's the habit, but we almost did not see each other except for lunch and dinner, she had planned each evening, a different activity, sometimes going out with friends, sometimes visiting some relative, others …,I liked to be quietly at home, I had my notes and calculations, without realizing that she had left, but … when she died …

Everything changed, now I had more time for my things, no one who could tell me that I had been with it for too long, no one to remind me that I had to rest, no one… but for me everything I did, dedicated so much time and believed so important, for me, all that had lost its meaning.