Albert would’ve turned 31 years’ yesterday, but he died 5 years ago. He left our house when he was 18, I was 5 years old. My family never forgave Albert two things: the fact that Albert left the house, and the fact that he died.
I live in one of the big Victorian houses near a river. The house has spacious rooms, tall ceilings, and fancy furniture. In the front part of the house there are pines and walnuts, and behind there are my mother roses. My mother cultivates and grows her plants with a dedication and love that never gave us. I am exaggerating, but not much. My mother grows oregano, rosemary, sage, basil, thyme, mint and I might be forgetting other ones. One of the happiest moments from my childhood was when my mother called me over …show more content…
Maybe when you evoke your childhood, you may remember some vacation trip. I don’t know. I evoke the smell of soil and herbs. Still today, many years later, with just the smell of rosemary makes me fully happy.
On the other hand, with my father the relationship was, or I should say is, much easier. I took care of my business and him of his. I just had to have good marks, do sports, obey him and respect him. While he, he took care of his business and his things, things that never shared with us. My father is, still today with his sixty-five years is a corpulent man. He has a terrible look; it is one of those looks that are enough to make you feel inferior. I guess it is not necessary to mention the dread I felt about the possibility that he would focus on me his killer blue eyes. My brother was his pride, the firstborn and the first grandson of the family. In pictures when Albert was younger and was with my father, there is an expression of happiness, a great calm and a sly pride in the eyes of my father. Albert was born with black hair like my mother, and with blue eyes like my father. It was the perfect synthesis of the best of each of my parents. He was a precious …show more content…
Walking home a suddenly storm stated to happen. We tried to go into a bar that was near us,but they didn’t let us because we had a dog. When we finally found a place that would keep us from the storm Albert said – It’s pointless to keep us dry from the storm.
I was amazed of how violent the storm was, how quick the storm was unleashed and how fast people got inside their houses and closed their windows. In that moment there was no soul in the streets. Albert stayed quiet for a moment when he finally said.
-HIV is like a storm, nobody wants rear their heads of what’s happening outside. After that day, Albert was interned for the last time. The last days after his death, my brother had his moments of lucidity and delirium. We could be talking and he would suddenly lost the thread of the conversation. I sat next to him on the bed and I took his hand, while I stroke his hand he woke up.
-You know what? I taught you how to walk.
-Yes, I know that.
-What an irony, I company you in you first steps, and you company me in my last
I live in one of the big Victorian houses near a river. The house has spacious rooms, tall ceilings, and fancy furniture. In the front part of the house there are pines and walnuts, and behind there are my mother roses. My mother cultivates and grows her plants with a dedication and love that never gave us. I am exaggerating, but not much. My mother grows oregano, rosemary, sage, basil, thyme, mint and I might be forgetting other ones. One of the happiest moments from my childhood was when my mother called me over …show more content…
Maybe when you evoke your childhood, you may remember some vacation trip. I don’t know. I evoke the smell of soil and herbs. Still today, many years later, with just the smell of rosemary makes me fully happy.
On the other hand, with my father the relationship was, or I should say is, much easier. I took care of my business and him of his. I just had to have good marks, do sports, obey him and respect him. While he, he took care of his business and his things, things that never shared with us. My father is, still today with his sixty-five years is a corpulent man. He has a terrible look; it is one of those looks that are enough to make you feel inferior. I guess it is not necessary to mention the dread I felt about the possibility that he would focus on me his killer blue eyes. My brother was his pride, the firstborn and the first grandson of the family. In pictures when Albert was younger and was with my father, there is an expression of happiness, a great calm and a sly pride in the eyes of my father. Albert was born with black hair like my mother, and with blue eyes like my father. It was the perfect synthesis of the best of each of my parents. He was a precious …show more content…
Walking home a suddenly storm stated to happen. We tried to go into a bar that was near us,but they didn’t let us because we had a dog. When we finally found a place that would keep us from the storm Albert said – It’s pointless to keep us dry from the storm.
I was amazed of how violent the storm was, how quick the storm was unleashed and how fast people got inside their houses and closed their windows. In that moment there was no soul in the streets. Albert stayed quiet for a moment when he finally said.
-HIV is like a storm, nobody wants rear their heads of what’s happening outside. After that day, Albert was interned for the last time. The last days after his death, my brother had his moments of lucidity and delirium. We could be talking and he would suddenly lost the thread of the conversation. I sat next to him on the bed and I took his hand, while I stroke his hand he woke up.
-You know what? I taught you how to walk.
-Yes, I know that.
-What an irony, I company you in you first steps, and you company me in my last