In 2018

I’ve blown out 33 candles. I’ve accepted my silver hairs. I’ve eaten apple pies, I’ve been the best french student. I’ve travelled to Crete. I’ve lost my keys. I’ve found my keys. I’ve laid down on my grandma’s lap. I’ve gone into labour. I’ve had breakfast with my friends on thursdays. I’ve destroyed Pimpinela in karaoke. I’ve gone marching in the International Women’s Day. I’ve been and I am a feminist. I’ve been a fighter. I’ve hugged aitite Ramón for the last time. I’ve had Ona in my arms for the first time. I’ve stuck the van in the garage. My knee bone has gone out of its place. I’ve imagined a thousand stories. I’ve written one. I’ve gotten angry a thousand times. I’ve made up and made friends a thousand more. I’ve danced wthout rythm. I’ve sang, sometimes in tune. I’ve felt the sand in my toes. I’ve felt the southern wind in my skin. I’ve eaten Marmitako at town festivals. I’ve left pilates. I’ve cried. I’ve drank. I’ve missed napping. I’ve read an 800 page novel. I’ve overcome faringitis twice. I’ve felt happy. I’ve appeared on TV. I’ve gone on holiday with my brother. I’ve heard amuma María laughing for the last time. I’ve won playing cards for the first time. I’ve loved good. I’ve rested badly. I’ve recycled a lot. I’ve been weak. I’ve been strong. I’ve bought a wine-coloured dress. I’ve opened a new workspace. I’ve worked some weekends. I’ve eaten at the best restaurants. My heart broke twice. I’ve sewn it twice. I’ve used the 2019 agenda on Christmas.

Lara Izagirre for Ttap Aldizkaria ( 18-01-19)


Gure Bilbo


The Hospital

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