Loose Ties
A rainy weekend is a time for reflection. And of course, I reflected on the subject that has been troubling me lately: my loose ties. In recent times, I've reviewed in my memory the not insignificant number of people I liked and simply lost touch with for some trivial reason. No serious reason, just a lack of initiative to reach out and say, "I miss you. What have you been doing with your life?
Affective bonds are like muscles: if they are not exercised and well cared for, they lose their tone. And as time goes by, this carelessness with our affections only gets worse if we don't do anything to change this bad habit. We get used to the fact that relationships have a beginning, middle and end, that people disappoint us, that the world is full of people and that someone new always turns up. And let it go. That way, all those who distance themselves from us for some reason end up distancing themselves even further in the ebb tide of life.
I always felt envious when I saw someone with an old friend. Those friends you've known since childhood or adolescence. I often consoled myself with the excuse that you only have old friends if you've never left your hometown. But that's a lie. A flat-out lie. There are people who call their friend in advance to let them know when they'll be arriving in their hometown, and then arrange to meet them at the bar. They enjoy the before, during and after the meeting. They appreciate all the stages, like the good pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela. What's the point of making the pilgrimage of a lifetime and learning the lesson if, in the end, you're not willing to put it into practice?
Today I received a message on WhatsApp saying that Patrícia Leite would be taking part in an event called "The places I haven't visited yet" at a cultural center in Porto Alegre. "How interesting the title of this talk," I thought, "I haven't seen my cousin for so long, it would be a great chance to meet her and find out a bit about her life, her work." Perhaps driven by my recent musings, I decided to seize the chance that fate was giving me. I searched for her photo on Instagram, so as not to be surprised when I met her and end up in a very awkward situation. I washed, perfumed, made up and dressed with a little more care than usual, and left the house, braving the deluge that was descending on the city.
I arrived early so that I could talk to her in peace. In fact, I was the first. She hadn't even arrived herself. When I entered the cultural center, I saw that the event wasn't going to be a lecture, but an exhibition of paintings and watercolors. "Strange thing, the family painter has always been her sister! But just as I've decided to start writing now, maybe she's decided to start painting." I met the gallery owner and asked if Patrícia Leite was now living in Porto Alegre again. "I think so," she told me. I didn't know she'd lived abroad before. Then a little light went on in my mind. "Do you know how old she is?" I asked, as I opened Instagram to show her a photo of my cousin.
It was then that Patrícia arrived. The gallery owner, her husband and I went out to welcome her. A friendly, smiling face, the clear, transparent eyes of someone at peace with the Creator. She wasn't my cousin, but I would have liked her to be. In a fit of excitement, I told her my story, and she calmly said, "Stay longer". But I was so put out by the mess I'd made of myself that I just praised the exhibition and said goodbye with a laugh: "Bye, cousin!". I left thinking that the Universe conspires to help us make good resolutions, but that it's up to us to take the initiative.
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