
Es hora de volver a casa

Fueron meses en los que tuvo que seguir hileras de personas conocidas que llevaban en sus bolsillos, o en su corazón, pedazos de vidas compartidas. Algunos días fueron de silencios tan tristes que todos lloraban y pedían perdón; otras veces era el ruido ensordecedor de la culpa lo que hacía que sintiera una cadena pesada en sus pies. Tuvo que sentarse al lado de otros y aprender el lenguaje de los latidos del corazón o aprender del dolor provocado, la ausencia, pero lo más difícil fue no cobrar venganza, perdonar, pasar la página.
A medida que iba caminando, el peso iba cediendo: era como si se fuera descargando con cada paso desandado. ¿Cuánto tiempo había pasado? No sabía, pero sentía que caminaba en círculos. Entonces vio cómo algunas personas que vinieron a buscarlo tuvieron que irse porque su proceso se había hecho más largo y más lento que los otros:
_Es extraño. De repente hay alguien que no te deja ir - dijeron. Él solo se encogió de hombros sin saber qué responder en aquellos casos.
_De repente si decides escuchar - dijo alguien. Y le subió el volumen al sonido de afuera
_No te vayas, no me dejes sola - era el eco de las voces que se escuchaban en su casa.
_Vuelve, vuelve - repetían.
Los que habían venido por él, lo miraron y le dijeron:
_Debes volver y despedirte. Entonces, él caminó hacia los sueños de cada persona querida y las besó en la frente. Con aquella acción sintió alivio y escuchó que una puerta antigua se abría.
_Ahora sí: es hora de volver a casa - escuchó que alguien le susurraba al oído y por fin, no fue su cuerpo, el cual quedó como una vieja braga a sus pies, fue su alma la que subió y brilló como lo hacen las estrellas recién nacidas.

Imagen de Pixabay, de libre uso, y texto traducido con Deepl

Gracias por vuestra lectura y comentario. Hasta una próxima oportunidad, amigos

![Click here to read in englis]
It is time to go back home
How much time had passed since his departure: 9 months or had a year already passed? Time was not liquid on the other side but rather a heavy rock that no one could move. He knew that his wife spent her days crying and also his daughters, especially the oldest who, being 15, was more aware of what had happened. However, at that stage of the process, so they had told him from above, it was better not to listen to what others said in order not to be contaminated by feelings. So he had intentionally made himself deaf when it came to his wife and daughters.
There were months in which he had to follow rows of familiar faces that carried pieces of shared lives in their pockets or in their hearts. Some days were filled with silences so sad that everyone cried and asked for forgiveness; other times it was the deafening noise of agony that made him feel a heavy chain on his feet. He had to sit next to others and learn the language of heartbeats or learn from the pain caused, the absence, but the hardest part was not putting down roots, forming bonds, avoiding attachments. As he walked, the weight began to lift: it was as if it was being released with each step taken back. How much time had passed? He didn’t know, but he felt he was walking in circles. Then he saw how some people who came to look for him had to leave because his process had become longer and slower than the others.
_It's strange. Suddenly there is someone who won't let you go - they said. He just shrugged, not knowing what to respond in those cases. _Suddenly if you decide to listen - someone said. And they turned up the volume on the sound of their life. _Don't go, don't leave me alone - was the echo of the voices heard in their house.
_Come back, come back - they repeated. Everyone looked at him and said: _You must come back and say goodbye. Then, he walked towards the dreams of each loved one and kissed them on the forehead. With that action, he felt relief and heard an ancient door creak open.
_It's time to go back home - he heard someone say, and finally, it wasn't his body, which lay like an old rag at his feet, it was his soul that rose and shone like newly born stars.