EL AMOR VERDADERO Un famoso profesor se encontr frente a un grupo de jve-nes universitarios que estaban en contra del matrimonio.

Los muchachos defendan que el romanticismo cons-tituye el verdadero sustento de las parejas y que es preferible acabar con la relacin cuando sta se apaga en lugar de entrar a la hueca monotona del matrimonio. El maestro les dijo que respetaba su opinin, pero les rela-t lo siguiente: Mis padres vivieron cincuenta y cinco aos casados. Una maana, mi mam bajaba las escaleras para prepararle a pap el desayuno y sufri un infarto. Mi padre la alcanz, la levant como pudo y, casi a rastras, la subi a la furgoneta. A mxima ve-locidad, sin respetar los semforos, condujo hasta el hospital ms cercano. Cuando lleg, por desgracia, ya haba fallecido.

Durante el funeral, mi padre no habl en lo ms minino, su mirada estaba per-dida y casi no llor. Esa noche, sus hijos nos reunimos con l. En un ambiente de dolor y de nostalgia recordamos hermo-sas ancdotas sobre mi madre. l pidi a mi hermano, que es telogo, que le dijera dnde estara mam en ese preciso momento; mi hermano comenz a hablar de la vida despus de la muerte, conjetur cmo y dnde estara ella. Mi padre escuchaba con gran atencin y de repente, pidi: Llvenme al cementerio!

Pap,respondimos nosotros, son las doce de la noche. No podemos ir al cementerio ahora. Alz la voz y, con una mirada con lagrimas, dijo: No discutan conmigo, por favor; no discutan con el hombre que acaba de perder a la que fue su esposa durante cincuenta y cinco aos. En ese momento se produjo un respetuoso silencio y no discu-timos ms. Fuimos al cementerio, pedimos permiso al cuidador y con una linterna a cuestas llegamos a la lpida. Mi padre la acarici, rez y nos dijo a sus hijos, que veamos la escena conmovidos: Fueron cincuenta y cinco buenos aos Saben?, nadie puede hablar del amor verdadero si no tiene idea de lo que es compartir la vida con una mujer as hizo una pausa y se lim-pi la cara. Ella y yo estuvimos juntos en aquella crisis, en mi cambio de empleo continu. Hicimos la mudanza cuando vendimos la casa y nos mudamos a la ciudad. Compartimos la alegra de ver a nuestros hijos crecer y terminar sus carreras, lloramos uno al lado del otro la partida de nuestros seres ms queridos, reza-mos juntos en la sala de espera de algunos hospitales, nos apo-yamos en el dolor, nos abrazamos en cada Navidad y perdonamos nuestros errores Hijos, ahora se ha ido y estoy contento, saben por qu? Porque se fue antes que yo, no tuvo que vivir la agona y el dolor de enterrarme, de quedarse sola despus de mi partida. Ser yo quien pase por eso, y le doy gracias a Dios. La amo tanto que no me hubiera gustado que sufriera Cuando mi padre termin de hablar, mis hermanos y yo te-namos el rostro lleno de lgrimas. Lo abrazamos y l nos

consol: Todo est bien, hijos; podemos irnos a casa; ha sido un buen da.

TRUE LOVE A famous professor was faced with a group of university students who were against the marriage. The boys argued that romance is the real support of partners and it is better to end the relationship when it goes off instead of entering the hollow monotony of marriage. The teacher said he respected his opinion, but told them the following: My parents lived fifty-five years married. One morning, my mother came down the stairs to prepare breakfast and Dad had a heart attack. My father caught, lifted as he could and, almost dragging, the climbed into the van. At full speed, without respecting the traffic lights, drove to the nearest hospital. When he arrived, unfortunately, already dead. During the funeral, my father did not speak as Pussycat, his gaze was lost and almost did not cry. That night, his sons joined him. In an environment of pain and nostalgia remember beautiful stories about my mother. He asked my brother, who is a theologian, would tell him where mom at that moment, my brother began talking about life after death, conjectured how and where would she. My father listened with great attention and suddenly asked: "Take me to the cemetery!" "Dad," he answered us, "are the twelve o'clock. We can not go to the cemetery now. "

He raised his voice, his eyes with tears, said: "Do not argue with me, please, do not argue with the man who's just lost his wife of fifty-five years." At that time there was a respectful silence and did not discuss more. We went to the cemetery, asked permission to the caregiver and a flashlight in tow arrived at the headstone. My father touched her, prayed and said to his sons, who watched the scene moved: "They were good years fifty-five ... You know, nobody can speak of true love if you have no idea what it is to share life with a well-woman paused and wiped his face. She and I were together in that crisis, in my job change she continued. We made the move when we sold the house and moved to the city. We share the joy of seeing our children grow up and end their careers, cried another side by the departure of our loved ones, we pray together in the waiting room of some hospitals, we rely on the pain, we hugged each Christmas and forgive our mistakes ... Children, now he's gone and I'm happy, you know why? Because it was before I did not have to experience the agony and pain of burying, of being alone after my departure. I who go through that, and I thank God. I love her so much that I would hate to suffer ... " When my father finished speaking, my brothers and I had a face full of tears. We hugged and he encouraged us: "All is well, children, we can go home, has been a good day.