En Inglés, porque así es más fácil.

Si si. Ya lo sé. Mi blog desapareció. Pero sentí la necesidad de postear esto. Lo escribí anoche, que fue cuando me enteré. Es algo así como una carta, pero está en Inglés, dado que aqui la honorable Claudieko prefiere escribir en Inglés a veces. Además de que la persona para la que va dirigida sabía el idioma y la entenderá. Si no quieres leer, no importa. Yo solo quiero publicar.



I hadn't seen you in about 10 years now, although I remember you clearly. You left the day of Patricio's funeral. Everybody was gone, but me and my granma, your mother. A van came to take you to the airport, and she had to beg your wife to let us say goodbye. I always thought you'd come back. I don't remember what I said when you left, but I do remember the look my granma had on her face. She was already very old and she suffered a lot that day. I think you never found out she died almost two years ago.

You had the same name as my dad and that confused me for a while, specially when people used it for calling you and I didn't know it was you because I called you "Tio Astolfo". Your house still has the same doors. And the same windows. I haven't got in since you left, but I think they still have the mirrors you left. It was so pretty inside, I won't ever forget. That was your last home here and it's so close to me.

You welcomed my mom when she moved to the US and you just loved us all so much. And we loved you too. You didn't deserve that. You should have stayed, but you were too sick for it. So she took you away. You had cancer and diabetes. I remember clearly you were going bald. You had white hair already and your voice was always low.

You gave me this coinbox that had the shape of a house. I remember when you gave it to me. It's a beautiful house. You have no idea how many times I've played with it. I want a house like that someday.

You were a photographer. A fantastic one. You took pictures of me when I was one year old. I remember that. You had a dark room for your pictures. And two huge washing machines. I remember the plants you had in your balcony, although I don't remember the rooms in your house. The first time I could ever whistle, me and my mom were waiting outside your house for you to come out.

You had a huge fan in your living room... and cable tv! My family used to go to your house to watch the games. Now I have cable tv, but I won't forget. No, I won't. You were just so cool. Best uncle ever. Or at least the closest one. You lived two floors below where we do now and came to see us everyday. You walked around town in your shorts and snickers. Snickers with no socks, I remember. You would walk all the way to the supermarket and then take the bus number 40 to come back home. You were tall, and you were getting old.

You never came back. You were never allowed to. She kept you away. She wouldn't let us talk to you. We had to beg, but we didn't want to, so we stopped. Nobody should beg to get news from their own family. A few months ago, we got news. My aunt googled one of your sons and his e-mail came up. Then we got in touch with the youngest one. The tallest one. He's been chatting with Gretta for weeks now. That's how we found out.

You died on friday, july 14th at 3.30 am. Your parkinson's disease and internal bleeding took you away. But it's ok. You didn't want to live anymore, anyways. Your son told us. You didn't know about us. You probably died thinking we didn't love you anymore. But we did. They just couldn't tell you we were in touch because you were so emotional these days. You died without hearing from us.

My sister had a baby, did you know that? Her name is Amelia. She is 4 months old. She is beautiful. She got married over two years ago, she is so happy. My brother is also married. My mom has been kind of sick, but she is ok. My aunt had a grandauguhter. Her name is Paula. She is so hyper. You should have known her. You should have taken pictures of her. You were so good at it. Daniel is so big now. He is almost 10! I think the last time you saw him he was either a baby, or not even born. I think you left when my sister was still pregnant.

And me? God, I've changed so much. I have grown up a lot. I let my hair grow for a while but it's short now. You know how much my mom went crazy with my hair because it's straight. I go to college too. I am about to finish, although I love procastinating, I wanna finish it soon. It's been almost 10 years since you last saw me. I am still smart, and on the top of my class. Remember how I always got awards from school? I got a big one in high school. You should have been here to see me.

I am so sorry that you are gone. I am. My mom is too. We all are. You were so amazing. I wonder if angels get online, so you will read what I wrote here. Notice my english? It's good, huh? I couldn't speak english when you were here. We would have talked a lot. Although my pronunciation sucks. You would have understand. I know it.

The bus number 40 will be gone soon. I forgot to tell you that! The city has changed so much! It's nothing like you left it! You loved it when it was horrible, you would have loved it even more now. You should have been here! You should have taken pictures of it! Why did she took you away? Why? I know... because she is insane. And I know for sure she is going to rot in hell. You loved us! We didn't deserve this! You didn't deserve it either. Ten years. Almost ten years without hearing from you. She is deffinetly going to pay it all someday.

I have nothing else to say. I think it's all gone now. I know one of your sons read Psalm 90 in your funeral. I wish you were buried here. They should bring you here! This is your home! Where you belong to! Not Miami! You weren't born in Miami! Your brothers and sisters, nephews and niece don't live in Miami! Your parents aren't buried in Miami! Why did you come back after you retired? Because you wanted to die here! But no. Now you are there. I just hope you can take care of us from above. I really hope so.

I am not a very religious person, but I hope you found my granma there. Ah, she missed you so much. Did you see her? Is she ok? Tell her I say hi. I miss her so much.

You are in peace now, and so should I, but I'm not. Right now it hurts. I wish I could have said goodbye. But I can't, right? You are gone now.


Un pedacito en español: Mañana es tu misa. Voy a llevar esa casa conmigo. Me haces falta. <3