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<center><sub>[Pixabay](https://pixabay.com/es/photos/mujer-anciano-cansado-descansando-2870659/)</sub></center>

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# <center>La abuela duerme/ Grandma sleeps</center>
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<div class="text-justify">Después de la comida, los adultos nos mandaban a hacer la siesta. Todos nos íbamos a dormir sobre las colchonetas que ponían en el corredor de la casa. Hasta allá llegaban los ruidos de los adultos y el sonido del televisor encendido. Las telenovelas eran el entretenimiento a esa hora y el silencio de la chiquillería era prueba del descanso.

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>After lunch, the adults would send us to take a nap. We would all go to sleep on the mats that were placed in the corridor of the house. The noises of the adults and the sound of the TV on would reach there. Soap operas were the entertainment at that time and the silence of the children was proof of the rest.

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A esa hora ya la abuela cabeceaba en su sillón de siempre. Sus ojos se le cerraban en los comerciales y los abría cada tanto para seguir la historia que algunas veces se hacía interminable. A veces yo me despertaba y me acercaba a la abuela y le daba susto. Ella se despertaba sobresaltada, confundida, tal vez sintiendo que el tiempo había pasado o por el contrario, que solo había transcurrido un minuto.

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>At that time, Grandma was already nodding off in her usual armchair. Her eyes would close during the announcements and she would open them from time to time to follow the story that sometimes became interminable. Sometimes I would wake up and go over to Grandma to scare her. She would wake up startled, confused, perhaps with the feeling that time had passed or, on the contrary, that only a minute had passed. 

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A veces me acercaba y creía que no respiraba, y era entonces que la movía furiosamente. "Muchacho, déjame dormir tranquila", gritaba mi abuela con sus ojitos cerrados y yo suspiraba al escuchar su voz de siempre. No sé por qué,en esa época creció en mí un susto de que las personas más queridas se durmieran y no se despertaran nunca.

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>Sometimes I would get close and think she wasn't breathing, and that's when I would shake her furiously. "Boy, let me sleep peacefully," my grandmother would shout with her little eyes closed, and I would sigh when I heard her usual voice. I don't know why at that time a fear grew in me that the most beloved people would fall asleep and never wake up.


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Por eso, ya con los años, cuando estudiaba lejos y mi padre me llamó una tarde para decirme que mi abuela había fallecido, prefería imaginarme a mi abuela en aquel sillón frente al televisor , dormidita como siempre. Seguro de despertarla si la movía un poco, y que ella me gritaría: "¡Qué muchacho tan majadero, déjame dormir tranquila!" Y luego yo suspiraría aliviado porque estaba viva.

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>That's why, as I grew older, when I was studying away from home and my father called me one afternoon to tell me that my grandmother had died, I preferred to imagine my grandmother in that armchair in front of the TV, asleep as always. I was sure that I would wake her up if I moved her a little, and that she would shout at me: "What a stupid boy, let me sleep peacefully!" And then I would sigh with relief because she was alive.</div> 

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### <center>HASTA UNA PRÓXIMA HISTORIA, AMIGOS</center>