RIO DE JANEIRO-THE WORLDWIDE FAMOUS
COPACABANA BEACH
In June 1973, back from the conference in Brazil and my holidays in Chile, I was assigned to several jobs in Guayaquil, Quito and Cuenca and I was also given the responsibility of training one of my assistants to support me in tax matters. It was by this time that I began to think that I should take my personal matters a little more seriously, particularly in what relates to my relationship with Fanny, whom I had been dating for over four years already. I was seriously in a mood to propose her, but I still had this hidden fear of getting married, a fear which as you may all know, arose from my sudden and irresponsible marriage in 1964. So, I had this internal conflict, I had become 31, I was not a kid any more, I wanted to have a wife, a home, a place of my own to come and rest, a confidant companion, a person to share my life with, someone to tell my good and bad things of the day before going to sleep, someone to hug, kiss and make love to, and someone to wake me up with a kiss in the mornings, but, at the same time I was afraid of losing my freedom, of becoming dependant, of being “chained” to one place and one person, and no longer being able to do what I wanted, when I wanted it, with whoever I wanted for as long as I wanted. It was a terrible conflict, which I guess it is a conflict that most men may have when they have lived a life as free and as self sufficient as the one I had been having for the previous four and a half years.
SANTIAGO THE BEAUTIFUL CAPITAL OF CHILE
It was trying to deal with all this conflict those days when one night I was “caught” by Fanny when I was taking a girl friend to her home as I was coming out of work. I assume she thought my friend and I were getting “closer than acceptable between friends” in the car, and that was enough for Fanny, that was the drop that spilled the glass. She stopped our relationship altogether, she did not answer or return my calls, nor she would accept any invitation to talk personally. A month went by and she and I did not see each other. I felt terribly bad for this outing, and I had to do something to reverse it. So, one night in early August I decided that I would see and talk to her at her home, “no matter what”, and will ask her to marry me as soon as possible. So I went to see her, only to find out she wasn’t there, she had gone to visit her grandpa whose birthday was being celebrated that night. Since I had finally made my mind, I decided that I would go and find her wherever she was and whomever she was with. So I did, and at about nine o’clock, on July 30 of 1973, I entered Fanny’s grandpa’s apartment, and after briefly greeting everyone, I asked Fanny to come apart and talk to me, which she accepted. The loud music in the living room and the people’s loud talking could be heard in the background, but that did not prevent me from telling Fanny that I was sorry for everything that had happened in the past, and that I had decided to ask her to allow me to share the rest of my life with her, I was almost trembling as I was talking and she must have seen it in my eyes that I was damn serious about what I was saying, she must have felt that I really meant every one of my words, so, in a matter of five minutes of talking, she embraced me, she said she loved me as much as I loved her and that she accepted to marry me!. We asked her mother (who never liked me very much) to come and listen to what we had just decided. She drew a light smile in her face and said she was giving her blessing to our decision. Fanny’s mother and father had split many years back and he had not played any significant role as a father since Fanny was eight. Nevertheless, Fanny was going to communicate with him and let him know about our decision. A few minutes later Fanny and I decided that we would marry on Saturday September 1, just a month away. We needed to run, time started to fly.
BUENOS AIRES ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL
CAPITALS OF LATIN AMERICA
I had my own family to communicate the news to; my family was made of Lilita, my dear sister and surrogate mother and her husband Lolo whom I respected and loved as if they were my own parents. I also had to tell my father who was living by himself in Pallatanga, my home village.
I came home that night and asked Lilita and Lolo to listen to me, they knew it was something important and paid close attention to every one of my words, I was not really asking their consent to do what I was going to do, but I was very respectfully telling them about my decision and asking for their blessing.
My sister Lilita showed me once more how mush she loved me. She said “Rafico, I had seen you grow from a young and smart little kid, to become a responsible and caring professional man, I believe you deserve to have your own family, you are already 31, and it is just natural that you get married and have your own family”, she then added “you have my blessing, you can count on me, I don’t feel like I’ll be losing a son, instead, I feel like I’ll be gaining another daughter, that’s the way I feel and you can tell that to your future wife”. She ended her little speech with her eyes wet, she was very emotional and almost crying; “I love you Rafico, I love you as much as I love my own children and I can’t tell you I’ll miss you, because I expect you to remain close to us after your marriage”. I was also sobbing and when I rose from my chair to go and embrace my sister who was sitting right across the dining table, I noticed Lolo was also silently sobbing. He didn’t say a word, he only stood up and embraced me and let his emotions flow unrestricted. The three of us remained silently sobbing and embracing one another for several minutes before we noticed that their four children, who were supposed to be in bed since it was late at night, had somehow found out what was going on, and had been hiding and silently watching the whole scene and were also sobbing. A minute later we were all embracing one another just as one solidly united family would.
The next step was to let my father, who was in Pallatanga, know about our marriage. I made a special trip to let him know. He was also very emotional and for the third time in my life, I saw him cry; only this time it was clearly because he felt very happy about his son. I told him I wanted him and to be my best man, while my sister Lilita would be my God Mother and would take my mother’s place in the church’s ceremony, and so it was.
A month passed by and the big day arrived, we would have our marriage take place at the Church of St Juan Bosco, the priest who will bless our marriage would be Father Guido Camilotto, an Italian priest who was the dean of the parish. Camilotto was a man who had lived in Guayaquil for over thirty years and was a real follower of the Ten Commandments, but more than anything else he was a man who loved God and helped his fellow men and women for the love of Jesus Christ.
In my next posting: A HAPPILY MARRIED MAN
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