I could write about the mortal wound of a village, Villamanín, in León; the monetary divide that divided its neighbors; about the sin of greed or how a reward that should be joy brought out the worst in people … against a group of children whose sin is throwing parties and working for others.
I could write in a humorous way on this April Fool’s Day, December 28, although there are days when reality exceeds fiction and when we have to look twice at the calendar in case what is happening is true, such as certain measures of grace for those who energize democracy and equality between peoples from within, call themselves nationalists and fugitives. In any case, faced with what is happening to us, the innocent people of the world unite. Or do it in a political way on the eve of the electoral year, before the race for the presidency of Castilla y León occupies it, fills all that 2026 which is almost here.
I could write about the joy of life, celebrate one more, blow out the candles of a year gone by and keep adding; about good wishes and resolutions as a prelude to a New Year’s Eve which will give way to the dawn of a new year. That dizziness of opening a blank diary, so many things to fill.
But I cannot resist the fact that the last of the year is not a balance of good and evil, the memory of those who have passed away, the bright presence of those who are absent, who are more and more numerous, traces in the soul. As if turning the page on life meant leaving them behind, the numbers no longer respond, the caresses in the wind.
Year of damn wars and corruption that poison my blood, that show that human beings have no limits, that we can be the worst. Year of negotiations and uncertain peace.
This year when my beautiful Michu went to cat paradise; year of farewells and celebrations in which María became a mother for the second time; another retired; another overcame her cancer; another received new lungs; another took its permanent place; others are toasting today over a bullfighting stew. Here’s to always partying.
Grateful because love knocked on my door without warning and learning to give back to my parents what they gave and taught me since I was a child, I say goodbye to 2025 with the infinite sadness that not attaching my column to the email of my “boss” Ayala causes me and with the hope and desire that 2026 arrives loaded with good things, peace, justice and bread for all.
May each empty chair be a legacy of love, a star that lights our path, and each day a beautiful page to write. Good year.
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