There was another anecdote.
I don't remember if it was before or after the descalabrada.
It wasn't very hot weather, but it wasn't cold.
I remember my sister and I.
We were running, she had something I wanted, I don't remember what it was.
The fact is that we left the house and entered it.
My grandmother, if I remember correctly, was in the kitchen.
I was the last one to leave, chasing her.
When I see her come back in, I try to reach her, she leaves the door ajar.
And by chance of kissing the ground, I stumble.
Falling on the edge of the door.
I opened my lip.
It must have been enough for what I remember that they were frightened.
And I go back to the hospital.
At that time, on behalf of PEMEX, we had insurance at the SPECIALTY MEDICAL CENTER.
And good doctors who already knew us... well, me.
As a frequent customer.
I'm going back to have my lip sewn up.
I still have the scar.
You can hardly see it anymore.
The funny thing I remember is, the sensation of a scab of dried blood in my mouth.
That day we left by truck, my mother and I.
I know that at that time my parents had returned when I was two years old.
The first boy for my father, he was sitting in the womb, he had fluid in his lungs and he could not survive more than 7 hours after he was born.
We went back to my grandparents' house.
By the time I was 4 years old, they had reconciled and although, my second brother came in the same condition as the previous one.
This one did survive.
For some reason they left again.
My mother then took us back to my grandparents' house.
It was our cycle.
Just like the one he experienced in his childhood, now he repeated himself with us.
The good thing about the separations was that there were no blows...
Well, my grandmother's hoses, but today as an adult, I can say that I had earned them.
He was not present in my disarray, nor in the opening of my lips.
It's not something I'm proud of, but he wasn't there.
These are things that may not be a big deal, but they are things that were lost at the time.
For a child, it means absence.
There's no reason because, we don't understand it, we don't understand that there has to be a reason.
And I never understood why I felt that he hated me so much, maybe because I wasn't a boy, I believed that all my childhood.
The birth of my brother calmed her longing for a child.
So, he was a little nicer to me once.