Candela

Little Big Revolution

May no one ever dare
Set your goals,
May you know how to observe
And not see those you shouldn’t.

Even if I am far away,
May you feel me near.
The distance between our doors
Has always been so ridiculous,
So small,
As long as we both follow
The same stars.

March 2017, Pioneering Spirit, Allseas.

I approach my boss at that time, a powerful Englishman from Liverpool with enormous hands named Carl Lawton, with whom I’ve always had a good relationship, and I say from afar, "Carl, I’m not asking for permission, I’m affirming to you that by mid-June, no matter what happens, I’ll be home." He watches me, smiles, and says, "This can only mean one thing, and I congratulate you, papi Cris."

My wife and I welcomed the news with great excitement months ago. And there hasn’t been anything in my life that has made me as excited as the arrival of our first daughter.

Months later, and against all odds, with just 15 days to go before her due date, my wife receives a call from my company, Allseas, asking me to go to Russia to prepare the ship for its first pipeline project. 

One day before returning home, my boss asks me over the radio: "Budiño, could you stay 4 more days?" My response, in disbelief, was: "I can, but..." And that’s where it ended.
It was the happiest and, at the same time, the most nerve-wracking time I’ve felt of all the times I’ve returned home in these years.

On June 22, 2017, after a Caesarean section, Candela Budiño Lijó came into the world. I will never forget that moment when, sitting with my mother-in-law in the waiting room, a nurse calls me, saying, "The father of Candela, please..." With nerves at their peak and the feeling of being out of place, I enter the room and see the nurse holding her in her arms, such a beauty. I always thought that newborns were somewhat ugly, to put it bluntly, an opinion I changed instantly when I saw that baby crying, full of life and strength. It was my turn to do the skin-to-skin, as her mother was resting after a complicated lqqqabor.

Soon, we took her home. Since then, I haven’t stopped learning from my daughter, full of vitality.
The years go by, comings and goings. How many times have I cried when leaving for the ship, and how many times have I cried when seeing her upon arrival.

I remember every time I called home, she would ask how many days were left until my return, and that broke my heart.

Candela is now a 7-year-old girl, and a few months ago, I gave her big news. "Candela, do you know that daddy won’t be leaving for the ship anymore?" Her response was: "Don’t worry, daddy, tomorrow we’ll open my piggy bank and take out some money to keep going." Despite my sadness at leaving the sea, deep down, I felt immense joy knowing that my 7-year-old girl was so excited about her new life with daddy by her side.

There are many days when I fall apart, when I hide to cry, and she, without yet knowing the reality of what’s happening to me, makes me smile with her spontaneous words. I don’t know when I’ll introduce her to my friend Mr. Park, but I have the feeling she will find out on her own. Her intelligence always keeps her one step ahead of her father and everyone else.
She has lived with me what I once lived with my father, and she, unknowingly, is the one who has made me understand why my father spent half his life sailing.

It’s 2 AM as I’m writing these words through tears, and I know I could be talking about my daughter for a few more hours.
As the song says: "May no one ever dare set your goals," because it will be you, and only you, who sets them.

💘I love you, my girl.💘