When love comes like this, it’s not your fault. And the same thing happens with other diseases. A little over a week ago, Jorge Javier confirmed what anyone could have guessed since taking sick leave: “Your body and your mind send signals, and all my life I’ve paid little attention to them.” To this day. I have to stop taking care of myself. Blessed are those who know how to quit and make it happen. Many of us have a bike complex, the constant feeling of needing a break and at the same time the fear of falling when we stop, that we go through life without a kickstand and then what happens happens. And most can’t even afford it. A good psychiatrist told me a while back that she felt that the terms used to talk about mental health in a mundane way were a contempt for human suffering. I couldn’t agree more. As if everything is in our heads and nothing is the responsibility of how we live, of circumstances, many that we cannot change.
The fact that a man so busy and, as he put it, workaholic, could see the signs of his times opens a justifiable and necessary gap. I say this as a friend and as an enthusiastic worker. Because as a spectator I miss Jorge Javier Vázquez in this last section of Sálvame and can only nod my head in front of the marked monologue last Thursday Belén Esteban on the show, prompting him to break up with his peers. “Miss Ruth was a lady,” Sipsey told Idgie in Fried Green Tomatoes of the death of Ruth Jamison, her inseparable companion. “And a lady always knows when to leave.” George, do us a favor.
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