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On this day six years ago, now distant 2004, the night of 20 to 21 September was over Monday and Tuesday, as now in 2010.


By then, two days beginning classes that first year of high school. It was a new stage, something different, but honestly I had not stopped much to think about it. That summer had been pretty tough at home, and I remember as a monotonous passing day, with the constant feeling of helplessness, unable to do anything, hurt himself when he felt his own pain, but sometimes contradictory and misleading the absence of pain or sorrow. From the Spring
that she began to deteriorate, they came to live at home with us. And she went from a normal grandmother and "andurrear" at home and going out occasionally, not to leave the house, the sofa bed.
I think that when I became really aware of everything that was when in mid-May, as did the previous year, had been placed in a math tournament was held in Priego few weeks earlier. And the awards reception was also right there. When I told him at home, my mother said I could go with my father and my sister, she had to stay in casa. At that time, she was trying to change position in bed. At first, it was difficult, because she always was a stout woman (... ever told us that once in a flood so, the men who went to help, they thought she was pregnant when she was not ... and she was laughing ...) and move a person who weighs his own and that is the leaden weight, is complicated. However, each time was to be easier, and their chubby arms that, according to my little sister "on the skin", had become just that, now had plenty of truth. And at that moment my mother mov & iacwould never be the same as always. Saying she was going to "oroski", with which we were going to that "Plus" where we bought the vessels of vanilla cream on top, we were going along with my grandfather when my sister Pryca was lost in the (then still Pryca, yes), which she dedicated her existence by her grandchildren and spoiled them eat something else if I had not liked them.
The ending each visit with sweets opening this door of the cabinet next to the TV, which did not return the Sunday market without something for us. The one who taught me to sew him a little, but b ∓ aacute; musician I know, even some cross stitch, which over the years I have forgotten. Of which I have inherited many parts of my genetics, some not very pretty, but she reminds me, where I come.

A moment I will always remember was that in which, while still in school, I dressed old carnivals. And I, innocently, when my mother was painting the face simulating wrinkles asked me how I would do it, I said "look at Grandma." I remember the face that brought, among surprised by what he had said, laughing about "the occurrence of the child," and after I rememberedlaugh.
My sister and I were "her blonde", I never knew why (by the color of our hair certainly not), but I liked the love they always gave us. And that is what is left, what I keep inside as a reminder of those fifteen years that I could enjoy his love, his pride every time he said he'd take very good notes. I remember the face that was put as if seeing right now, saying "the way I like," Oh my girl she knows. " Glad
think that would be very proud of me, seeing a career. She did not understand; To what it was that, but it does not matter. She would be happy getting what I was proposing. And with that, she would enjoy alongside their grandchildren.
as when, half hiding, those afternoons before Christmas Eve, we called my sister and me to go to his room. There, on top of the bed, had already prepared a couple of trays. Opened the cupboard and took out two bags full of chocolates, sweets, cream and nougat. I do not know who flattered just filling the trays of things of all colors, including sorting of shapes and sizes, if we or her. When you finishmy father or my grandfather let go a bit silly, or when they got to talk about their little adventures of old or whatever, normal speaking, but a voice, and seemed to be fighting. She always was nervous about it, and they quarreled again and again.

Or the story of "rice of the Bride", which my grandfather had every time we had rice. He always said, as he did not want the thing: "Well, this is better than rice for the bride." And that is the first time my grandfather had gone to the house of the parents of my grandmother with the nerves of the situation, my grandmother cooked and fits & oacuteTMLXC do not believe in those things where she is watching us, watching me, so I wish I could just hear, feel. Having the chance to say goodbye in a position. Because when a person lives but not live, sorry but no one recognizes you ... It is then powerless to even say "Grandma, I am. Thank you for all they have given me, I'll never forget. Boom. I love you. ".
But you get disappointed. And that you had many years to tell, but one with these ages (or since either, let's face it) falls into that at any time that person can go. Especially if death is the first quand live, and over so closely.

That night, when the clock just to end the twentieth day to make way for twenty-one, yet could not sleep. And then the monotonous noise every night, became agitated. Saw it coming, nobody was surprised, but then, without even opening the door of my room and ask, I knew I definitely was gone. And my tears, contained so many months, they were led to evidence of the facts.

However, not everyone is fortunate to have what I had. And that is what matters, what matters, what counts. Obviaré lived and what not cheer me &

Wilson Antennas One Of The Must Haves

C And this anniversary, this is the entry number

200

posted on this blog from that
February 6, 2007

where it started everything.

I can say that on the one hand, reach one hundred tickets cost me less than eleven months, from February 6 to twenty-ninth, two thousand seven. Wrote an average of 9 times per month, so much I was raging. Every now and was inspired, and it has its good points and not so good. On the one hand, they were sometimes phrases are bullshitNTID, or test with questions. O songs or videos music. Or any story, as Old Heart, "" Deception
Triste "," Reflection
to you, but you " ;, "

Game" or " The Bus." Tributes
that March 2007 and May 27, or 3 and 9 December. On the other hand, I often grated for one thing detsmall text song had been published here, and filtered through those "dollars" and here he wrote less often. However, he never abandoned it. In the nearly three years that I have been collecting a hundred other entries more often use whatever writing a dedication to one of my relatives and friends: 25/01/1908 , 16/05 / 08 , 03/08/1908, 11/13/1908 ,
05/02/1909, 05/16/1909 , 09/20/1909, 12/20/1909 , 05/02/1910, 16/05/1910

,
07/30/1910, 08/03/1910 . Quizásuyou're willing to be Isa forever and not an oak or a pestiño . " And second, because it sums up my comings and goings around here, and my most faithful reader wrote: " T Ardara in return, but when you do, SE NOTE
. "

Thank you to all who pass by here from time to time to read me, it is no small thing. Especially to J. and N., (or X and A as sign: P) because they are my biggest supporters today. A kiss to all. I look forward to having something to say from time to time (and possibly something acceptably