Text in English Hi, dad

Hi, dad.

It's been a long, long time since we had a chat. But I often feel that I don't really need to speak to you. I just remember you. Possibly every day of my life. I've learned that I can't promise that I'll never, ever, forget you (just like anything else). But, definitely, I haven't forgotten you yet. You're still in my heart. I'm still that child you came for every week at the end of the his guitar lessons. I still treasure that cheap guitar you carried for me; someone broke it, but I lended it. I'm still here, and so do you.

Recently, I've started to do some work in the village at weekends, in a beautiful house you'd love to see. Surprisingly enough, it's a real pleasure. One day, I went home (I mean, yours, mine and mom's) and poke inside the tools cupboard. You know, it has always been a real mess, everybody put their dirty hands there and took away tools they never brought back, and since I was unable to keep it in order, I usually avoided it. When I got married, I bought my own, small, efficient set of tools. But some weeks ago I collected your old tools to take them to the village. Your screwdrivers (well, the remaining ones), your hammer, your saws, your small axe... They were covered in oxide, like useless relics.

But they work. I put some oil on them, I cleaned them, and it felt like becoming reconciled (once again) with you, and now they're my tools. And I really love feeling their iron in my hands, and building and shaping things with them, and they're alive again, and it feels like both of us, you and me, are doing the work together. And I feel a deep, overwhelming peace.

You know, it's very unusual for me to cry. I cried once, only once, only a couple of minutes, when you left; and after that, I didn't cry for at least seven years. However, I've cried writing this.

Life was a struggle for you, I know. I'd like to tell you that we're OK, after all. I'd like you to see us, to see that we're happy, that everything went well, that everything's all right. I'd like you to visit my house, and have a walk. I'd like to give you some money, and I'm pretty sure you'd boast before your friends at the bar. Actually, we were always reluctant to see you going there, but today I enjoy imagining you there, being proud of us. I'm proud of you.

Everything's all right. And we miss you.

5 comentarios:

Mafias dijo...

Obviously, I didn't know your father. But I'm sure that, if there is something beyond where we lie after, your father is proud of you. He must be, because he has one or two millions of reasons to. You're a model of honesty and integrity for many people, including myself. That should be enough, even if there is another bunch of reasons :-)

Sorry for my english, it's been a while since last time I wrote something in Shakespeare language :$

Tania-chan dijo...

I can finally post my comment!

So, where was I? ... Ah, yes:

"I feel like I'm spoiling the magic, but I have to say it: this is the most beautiful post I've read in a blog."

And I add this: I totally agree with mafias :)

Guti dijo...

You guys too often leave me not knowing what to say.

In this case, I can only think of a modest... thank you. So much.

Esfer dijo...

Oh my god, I agree with Tania... this is the most beautiful post I've ever read...

P4K0 Null dijo...

More than spoiling the magic I feel like reading your diary, or poking in your drawers...like if I was reading something I wasn't even intended to know about.

And commenting about it is like thinking about what I've just seen in a page of your diary. It just doesn't feel right.

However, I must agree with Tania and Esfer. It's a post so beautiful you can't simply close the browser and go to sleep. And as Mafias said, your father, wherever he is, is proud of you.

We should be the ones thanking you for being both a great teacher and a great person. Perhaps having you in the University and not in a better place is not that bad..at least for us :)