the death of mum on Santa Clara´s Day tp whom she was devout

 

SANTA CLARA´S DAY FULL MOON SUPER MOON

 

Beautiful and serene august night, dear Helen: my mom is dying of old age 94, after a plentiful life full of merits and endeavours, and your auntie Fuen dressed her up to receive the Espouse with a night dress she embroidered herself year ago.

I m sure there might be for her a place in Paradise and this in this marvellous day break she shall be escorted to heavens by her guardian angel the Holy Virgin and Santa Clara of Assisi she venerated.

When she was pregnant of me, she attended Mass at the Franciscans and took a candle to the altar of Saint Anthony of whom she was devout.

The result of this devotion was my name I was christened for San Antonio my tutelary patron. Poor mother Juani on her dying bed. Last night I kissed her goodbye. She was a beautiful woman in her days but now her face was emaciated, haggard, all bones no flesh her mouth  horribly open and her nose sharp with that macabre sharpness of agony and the pang of death.

We sang for her the symbol of faith I believe in one god father almighty credo in unum deum the room was full of peace and I felt a sacred, invisible, presence of the blessed (her husband Silvino, her mother Leonides and her father Benjamin, her sisters Rosario and Felisa my two little infant brothers Henar and Juan José, her nephew Austin and her brother Pedro came to give the accolade of ingress to the eternal glory.

Your sisters Henar, Almu and Cris and your nieces Carla and Sofia and Daniel were at her bedside.

Here is the reason, why I am not sad in this mournful dawn, but happy, because my faith tells me that a recompense a place of light and peace waits the Just.

She worked hard of her life, she bore seven children and brought up four, a woman without letters, nearly illiterate but gifted with super intelligence. Thanks to her vision, all of us (Javier, Fernando, Fuencisla and myself) went to the university and took masters and degree. What a pity, my dear Helen, you never met your granny. Physically you resemble Juanita.

You had her nose – Jewish nose-, Helen and penetrating eyes. We missed you.

Although your absence has been one of my many sins and faults and probably the drama of my life, I am on the conviction that your grand mother will protect you and guide your steps through life from that little corner of heavens where she dwells. God bless.

That is my message in this clear night of the great month of August with a super moon above illuminating a radiant peaceful sky. Hark and pay attention, people of good will. The earth looks a pond of serenity and one can perceive fluttering of angelical wings when a good soul enters paradise under the escort of the cherubim and seraph. Since I do not know your whereabouts of address, Internet is the exclusive means I have to convey the sad news of Juani s decease, my dear estranged English daughter Helen Parra-Hugh. Stay well and high, like this August super moon. Vita mutatur, non tollitur. Life is not taken from us, but mutates, as we Christians sing in the rites for the dead, like an omen of predestination, reincarnation, and resurrection.

12 August 2014