"Grandmother ... You will always be a Winner ..."
I push a lone green wood top, while the haul I remember remembering that there are cartoons to see in the magic box. That ball I keep religiously behind the wooden door was offered to me by John's hand on the day of my seventh birthday. There are a number of advantages of not having any responsibilities when we are children, of not being old enough to worry about the near future, not to feel remorse when we fail to achieve any goal.
Especially when we are well watched and advised by our guardian angel. That look always protected me, those arms wrinkled by work never checked me out, that affection and tenderness that always enriched me as a human being.
Dona Rosa always welcomed me and by the time of adventure, I cried to the heavens to protect me against any hurt or pain caused by a skateboard all equipped and speedy.
I feel that the emptiness she left in my heart will never be lost in time or memory, even when I am already atrophying these damn ideas.
That desire for religious baptism which she never forgot to mention when we saw ourselves made me feel like a single grandchild. For now it is not a bet for my future, but who knows someday when death really worries me can carry my religious convictions to the Catholic Church.
That boiled water would no longer have burned my arm unfortunately, and unfortunately I say because if this happens it was a sign that you still saw me and felt myself before you.
I miss my grandmother, seeing her with a handkerchief on her head and a pot in her hand. To feel how much she loved me and the sweetness with which she laid me down. If time were not my enemy I could write until my hand hurt, since I can never transpose into a single text everything you left me in my life.
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