From that day on, Esteban took an extended leave of absence.
He cared for Sofia’s care took care of everything—feeding her, bathing her, and giving her physical therapy at home.
Their small home became a makeshift medical room, filled with medications, gauze, and other aids.
Some suggested placing her in a specialized nursing home. But he refused.
“She’s my wife. I’ll take care of her. No one else.”
Every morning, he got up before dawn to cook her atolito (atrolito), feed her, and then went out to do electrical repairs at her home.
At night, he sat by her bed, read to her, and massaged her limbs in the hope of reactivating her nerves. The first time a finger moved slightly, Esteban cried like a child.
Sofía barely spoke. She lived in silence, sometimes nodding or crying softly.
Esteban interpreted that silence as hopelessness… but also as gratitude. He never doubted her. He only felt compassion.
At first, family members on both sides visited them and offered help.
