December

December is a month full of festivities: the Constitution, the Immaculate Conception, my wedding anniversary, the birthdays of many relatives, including my husband’s, Christmas… Just thinking about it fills me with stress.

We have already passed the holiday of the Constitution and, as I am in the countryside, I have not been able to attend any commemoration, but I have made my particular tribute, putting the flag of Spain on the porch railing. For me, who was 20 years old at the time, it was a huge change, a liberation from 40 years of dictatorship, a conquest of rights and, above all, to see how, despite their disagreements, people from different and antagonistic parties, even nationalists, were able to sit down and reach agreements as was the Constitution.

Then comes the day of our wedding anniversary. Like the Constitution, we are 43 years old. My husband, when he met me, already knew that I had epilepsy and I never saw or noticed that it was something that made him doubt his intention to marry me. He was very brave. Imagine the information we had about a disease like epilepsy 43 years ago: little or nothing. And the information we could get was apocalyptic, of possessions and exorcisms. Better not to listen to anything and trust the neurologist. Well, yes: on December 9, 1978, we said “Yes, I do” and… until now. I have been very happy by his side, and I will continue to be so.

Birthdays are sprinkled throughout the month of December and Christmas arrives. I don’t know yet how they are planned for this year. This COVID won’t leave us alone. We were thinking of getting the whole family back together (about twenty-something) but the latest figures are putting us off a bit. Maybe we will go back to what we did last year, which was to do it by family bubbles.