Letter to my father, Rodrigo Escobar Navia Today, the 6th of November in 2020, you would have turned 86. It is not by chance that I find myself here, in this library, reading Borges. How you loved Borges! So much so that I scattered your ashes on the grave of the celebrated argentine, in Geneva’s…
Hoy, 6 de noviembre de 2020, cumplirías 86 años. No es fortuito que me encuentre aquí en esta biblioteca leyendo a Borges. Cómo te gustaba Borges! Tanto que esparcí tus cenizas sobre la tumba del célebre argentino en el cimetière des rois en Ginebra.
Debía tener 11 o 12 años, vivíamos en Cali. Era un domingo y necesitaba una cartulina para una tarea del colegio.
Sufrí de depresión por más de un año y me recuperé completamente. Estas son algunas de las cosas que hice que me ayudaron; tal vez algunas de ellas le sean útiles a otros, por eso las comparto:
“Why are toys forbidden, mom?” I hear a child ask in the supermarket.
I suffered from depression for over a year and fully recovered. Here are some of the things I did that helped me; perhaps some of them will be useful to you:
A good film can help us reclaim our capacity to distinguish between good and evil and act upon this distinction.
Inequality in the time of quarantine, some thoughts and a call for solidarity
It’s been more than two years. I will never know what made him take the decision he took. Some say that suicide is never a decision, but rather an act of despair.
In slow motion, he placed his hands on my breasts, cupping a breast in each hand. His gesture lasted only a few seconds. I froze. Or rather, I became a fly settling on my left shoulder, petrified, void, and breathless.
We are not defined by our best achievements nor by our greatest moral failures.