Mañana es mi santo. Con alegría al menos voy a celebrarlo en el blog, porque aquí ni santos ni santas, más allá de Mónica, Diego o Bárbara.
Mañana es mi santo y estoy escribiendo un cómic. O empezando a escribir un cómic. Y entre las superheroínas a las que imagino, hay un grupo de mujeres que nunca me dejan en paz.
Las Xixonas.
Y vosotros os preguntaréis, ¿quién carallo son esas? Bueno, esas señoras, e hijas de señoras, nietas de señoras (algún chico hay, y bien salaos que son), son mi familia materna. Son las tropecientas hermanas que mi abuela had, together with the many daughters who all had, and not so many grandchildren that they, in turn, gave birth. They are a matriarchy that, ironically, is named after the father of Anton Xixona, and, of course, the claw of the mother, woman whom I had the pleasure of meeting but I would not mind the interview as soon as someone invent a time machine.
The Xixona are strong. Are those ladies who built the country, despite falling, and stayed home, caring for and raising the generation of democracy. The Xixona are petite but tough, have small feet and gray hair early, a tendency to adorable tummy (well, if you suffer from adorable has little) and skin imperishable. They tend to be white as milk, are good at cooking, singing regularly and have a green humor so sweet face hidden. Do not be deceived.
The Xixona have lived long, and have lived all right, head high. They are genius, yes sir, but are the first to know how to give a good kiss to whoever needs it. Are Ladies, capitalized, and no ladies well. The Xixona care of each other as if they were all the same entity. Being an only child in this family has never seemed so. Premiums are sisters, nieces are cousins, children of the premiums are nephews, and the mess of relationship is such that the vocabulary comes up short. In
the original Xixona are not many. Some younger than others, more suitable for war than the rest. The next generation has nothing to envy, says a cousin-niece-daughter-goddaughter. And mine either.
From my first entrepreneur, who is not afraid of anything, you have two adorable kids, and I admire from California, my great-aunt who has just lost a leg and left the theater saying that the " Well, here you got me again, but now with no leg "my family has been shown by many fine, smooth leather, are made of iron.
Yes, tomorrow will be my saint, but I dedicate it to all my holy Xixona. Because we many, but we are all one.
0 comments:
Post a Comment