"Call Him , he is Dying"
"Call Him, he is Dying" Grandfather left "Spain died", he was not my favorite, he did not love me and I loved him with pain, like the bastard grandson. Then Grandma, the most beloved, the softest, the pillow, the hot milk and the very light coffee, the beautiful nose, and the very black hair, she left, she left and her emptiness was never filled. She took Grandpa, my dear grandfather, the most upright man I have ever met in my life, good to the point of absurdity, proper, precise, proud, "Tango fan", studied, brave, wrong, rediscovered, lost, saved in faith, and died in the physical body for pain and disease. My Grandmother left, "Spain died again", Flamenco, Rancheras, living beauty, the most beautiful woman, the most lived, the most suffered, the separated, the single, the married, the widow, the sane, the crazy