Her latest book, En Amusement Parks Also Close (Arpa) is a heartfelt tribute to Manolo and Juli, her parents, and, by extension, to all the women and men to whom we should be in this world. A sparkling book that smells of baked sea bream and stewed partridge and through which diners like Rocío Jurado, Jorge Javier Vázquez, Alfonso Guerra (“I can’t handle him!” his mother roared when she saw him on TV), Azúcar Moreno parade , María Teresa Campos, the Sálvame talk show hosts, the covers of ¡Hola! magazine. and the Deluxe polygraphs.
An imperfect but wonderful family, whose story is told by the youngest daughter, Ángeles Caballero, with such grace that the reader becomes another member of the clan and suffers almost like a distant cousin from the illnesses of old age that come to meet their loved ones. parents, until they become foxes.
Father and mother there is but one. “Come on Juli, tell him when he kissed you. And give me a kiss now, let the girl see how much we love each other,” her father jokingly said to her mother. Immediately afterwards, Manuel Caballero Carrillo approached Julia Martín Huerta, the woman with whom he was married for almost sixty years and with whom he had two daughters (one of them fourteen years later than the other), with his eyes closed and mouth in screw position. “And in the end she gave in, reluctant and a little blushing, and she gave him a shy kiss,” writes Ángeles Caballero, the little girl who was born when her father was already 44 years old and her mother was 38.
The story occurred in Getafe. The father was restless and a joker. The mother, Juli, was sensitive and distrustful, Sofía Loren and Bernarda Alba. A middle class family that ended up living the Madrid dream, but that kept its feet on the ground and did not stop greeting other wise men without a degree. That’s what they were like until his parents had to face the tumor in his prostate and the trail of illnesses that followed. It was then that Caballero became aware of the end of life among so many hospital pilgrimages. “To give oneself is to spend oneself,” Caballero points out a day after presenting his book in Barcelona and sharing a universal story: the immeasurable love and infinite pain that comes with saying goodbye to loved ones.
What remains for you after having taken care of two children as old as their parents?
What remains with me is having known them in five years much more deeply than in the 35 or 37 years we were together, when there was a layer of varnish between us. When you are immersed in the process of caring for them you think that your case is full of particularities. But then you realize that when we lose autonomy and stop recognizing ourselves in the mirror, we all look very similar, because what happened to my parents has also happened to my neighbors, to people who live 500 kilometers or nine hours apart. time.
What do you know now?
The importance of knowing how to let go and let go. We are all afraid of dying or losing people we love. We want to exhaust and explore all the possibilities: talk to 25 doctors, go to the Harvard University website or visit an African shaman to prepare an ointment for us, because your father or mother cannot die. My father, on the other hand, threw in the towel and it seems legitimate to me. Because doctors ask you to your face: “think if it is worth operating” and you have to answer yes or no. My father (and also our family) decided that there was no need to operate, because it is not necessary to undergo very aggressive treatment when the cancer is in a very advanced stage. We must trust science, we must trust medicine, but also be aware that we are born, live and die.
Between caring for children and parents. How to digest the ‘sandwich’ of your generation?
The concept “sandwich generation” is incredibly precise. My recommendation is not to believe that you are a wonder woman capable of being able to do everything, as happened to me: I believed that I could do it with my small children, with journalism, with solving the problems of the city of Madrid, of all of Spain and of what They will throw me ahead. But not. As my husband told me one day when she was extremely exhausted, “you get as far as you get.” It was as a result of his comment that I was cool enough to notice that the expiration date was on one of the two slices of bread, my parents’. The other one will continue to stay fresh (I hope!) for many, many years. In order not to stuff myself with the sandwich, I thought that the children must have been aware of the personal moment their mother was going through and that in those moments she had made the decision to be with her grandparents, whom she wanted to take care of like two older children. .
What worked best when it came to lifting your parents’ spirits?
The sense of humor. Beyond giving them kisses and telling them how much I loved them, being able to laugh together was our wild card. I was lucky to have very good parents. I say this because it is not about canonizing all fathers and mothers, because there are also those who have been terrible.
What would be your suggestion to make the “older children” understand that it is now their turn to obey?
Of course it is not simple at all. We believe that the most difficult thing is to convince your children to brush their teeth at night when the most difficult thing is to get your parents to admit that there are certain things they can no longer do. It is normal for them to resist stopping being who they have been, so the recommendation is to make them understand that they need help.
Did you read any books that comforted you while you were caring for your father and mother?
“Ordesa”, by Manuel Vilas, I cried a lot and it made me feel deeply embraced.
What things about your father and mother would you like your children to inherit?
The importance of not giving yourself importance, laughter above anything else, crying when you feel like it, having a certain courage when it comes to it and learning to take a step back when it is convenient.
What will he do when he goes through what his parents experienced?
The Ángeles that you have right now in front of you would respond, very emphatically, like the Sofía Loren who was my mother, that, without a doubt, I will do what I have written in my declaration of last wishes. Apart from donating organs and things like that, I have the desire not to cause problems for my children or anyone else. If I have an illness, I want to be taken to a center and disturb as little as possible.
However, experience shows that it is very easy to back down…
Indeed. With these certainties it happens a bit like with faith: you can believe a lot in something but also some dark cloud may appear that leads you to doubt. In many ways I myself am nothing like the person I was only ten years ago. A good example is my mother. Since my maternal grandmother died at almost 105 years old and refused to go to a nursing home, my mother told us that she was taking her life away from us and that when she had the slightest ailment, we should rush her to a nursing home. But then, when push came to shove, she resisted a lot. Maybe the same thing happens to me and, when the time comes, she prefers to stay at my house so I can take out a frying pan whenever I want and make a fried egg.
