A reunion beyond time (EN-ES)

Greetings, my dear Ladies of Hive. I hope you are doing very well with abundant health and well-being and that you have a good weekend.

I share my participation in the #240 edition of the contest to which we are invited, weekly, by the Ladies of Hive. On this occasion, I will answer the questions proposed by our friend @saffisara for this week:

1️⃣ How many languages do you speak, and which one would you like to learn more than any other?

2️⃣ If you could invite five people, dead or alive, to a dinner party, who would they be?

As for the first question, I speak Spanish, which is my mother tongue, and I understand a little English, although I would like to improve it a lot more. It has always been nice for me to listen to other languages, but if I had to choose a few to learn with great enthusiasm, it would be French and Italian. I love the way they sound, so musical and expressive. I think it would be wonderful to be able to travel to France and Italy someday and converse with people in their own language, understand their songs, for example, and enjoy even more everything that country has to offer.

If I could invite five people to a dinner party, it would certainly be a profoundly special evening. I imagine them seated around a table beautifully adorned with fresh flowers, with candles lit and a gentle breeze enveloping us like a whisper from the soul.

First would be my youngest brother, my Jorgito, who passed away too soon, at only 39 years old. He was more than a brother: he was like a son to me. To see him again, to hear his laughter, to hold him tight, would be an immense gift. Next to him would sit my maternal grandmother, an admirable woman, strong and loving, who marked my life with her example and her simple but profound wisdom.

Of course, there would also be my mother, my refuge of tenderness, the woman of infinite kindness who taught me to love with patience and to serve with joy. I know she would be happy to see us all together.

I could not miss my dear father Aníbal, my father-in-law, who passed away recently. His absence left a huge void. And completing this dreamed dinner, would be my beloved uncle, whom I cared for until his last breath, with a heart full of gratitude for everything we shared.

That night we would not talk about death, but about life. We would share stories, laughter, and perhaps a few soft tears would roll down our cheeks. It would be a dinner of reunions, of hearts that beat together again for a moment because, although they are no longer with me, they are still alive in me, and sitting them at my table would be like embracing again the most sacred part of my history.