More than 30 years ago I was an only child, and more than that an only grandchild, I even get to know 4 of my great grandfathers, being the only child on both sides of my family was something that made me really lucky, I was spoiled, but I was also able to understand those who were from a different generation.
I was probably given every thing that I wanted, but more than that I had time with someone that were totally dedicated to me.
My granddad taught me how to ride a bicycle, showed me the pleasure of reading , for more than 30 years I always received a book in Christmas and in my birthday, I was able to play with computers when almost anyone had one, and especially anyone with less than 5 years, and one of the most amazing memories that I have is the way that he showed me the pattern of ants, the way that we followed them from and to the nest.
Even though there were more kids in the family since I was about 5, I did kept a special relationship with him, I was the first and the only that liked the same things that he liked, and I also lived with him for about 10 years on my late teen’s, early twenty’s.
About 5 years ago he started to have the first signs of Alzheimer, I already had that experience with one of my grandmothers, but with him was harder, he was closer and I saw and lived the results of such a fucked up disease, the moments in which I think he didn’t know who was I.
2 years ago I made another one of my trips, about a week, on the day that I flew to London I went to the house to say bye, as I always do, and he just told me, “be happy”.
He died before I was back.