My tatita Pedro made it possible not only my childhood, but which turned
great.
Before he died he could not even open her eyes. His eyelids trembled just impatient to see some last precious object. A permanent absence from invading his cheek to his mouth and his hands were warm and softer than ever, though quiet and still. Manuel
then watched him carefully and with all his being to not ever delete it. She looked at him insolently skin attached to bone, protruding knuckles so white and her hair until it seemed honest and sacred. Suddenly evoking the magic of a great childhood by his side forever, either next to the shoe or even hugging tallercito the saints on the nightstand and bed sheets of flour sacks. In a time when the incessant review each morning the old Larousse wear orange caps could not quell the desire to know everything, nor satisfy the questions that had suffocated excessive at night.
No one but the old Nolasco so vividly realized the importance of solving the riddles of the small in his four years, either in the morning with toast or during the early mornings that I had to wake up smothered by doubts. Or in the middle of the night against the candlestick plotting the route on the great yellow world map of 1914, to explain a mythical encounter between African crocodiles and great white sharks, grizzly bears and polar or faced in fierce battle. And then there will never forget the gift of the eyes of his grandson was killed by the charm, yelling between hugs that he was undoubtedly the best tatita of the Earth. And that's only enough for there until his death at once as an offering.
hold
Manuel watched his hand round her soul to the bones of the old chest Nolasco whose breathing became increasingly slow and sporadic. The boy stood beside the bed then it sincerely wanting to scream that would not die just yet and that is suddenly a few years to perhaps ask other shoes of those of the 40 or 50 that always produced, when their compañeritos le decían Chaplín y él bien sabía cómo cagarlos a patadas por la insolencia. Decirle, por ejemplo, que fue un tesoro invaluable el abecedario enseñado a sus cuatro años a punta de coscorrones y de dinosaurios, y que no pudieron estar mejor las pirámides junto a Sinué el egipcio, las aventuras de Crusoe, y sobre todo las del niño que escapaba de su sombra allá por Chillán Viejo.
Manuel se arropó una vez más a su costado abrazándole con delicadeza pensando en las tantas veces que el viejo llegó a los lugares más lejanos cuando se mudaba con sus padres, avanzando siempre firme, lento y encorbadito como una tortuga milenaria repleto de dulces y regalos. Recordando and the gift of your presence at a distance and just run then upwind to tears to hug him and pierced his face against his beard for good old, wise tree and lucid teacher of generations, always worried nephew, or son, grandson and great-grandchildren, immortalized in the blue door of his house with his head resting on his cane deep, who knows how to transform pain.
transiting in the corridor and the nearby oldest praying and consoling the grandchild hysterical tore his hair mixture of guilt and sadness. A time came the father of Manuel with a desperate penalty gin flasks barbaric yelling for passage collapsing in the mud of the place by a bitterness so profound that prevented sustained.
"The gods will be eager to try on shoes they do, Tatita" whispered the boy clinging to his left hand forever, kissing her eyes and forehead.
After a gap only definitive and cries, the prayers, the coffin, flowers early, and only after his grandfather Manuel forever breaking on his bent back a piece of Styrofoam that spreads to the trees rising from a childhood November . An afternoon in the old heritage Nolasco six moves through the passage so full of joy, filled with laughs and great-grandson of a happiness that would keep intact until the day of his death.
