Bridge Building Train Game

is not easy to write about him, indeed, I have more than three months of trying, thinking what to write. No remedy the muses, memories, anecdotes do not agree. So many moments, many moments and to discover another nuance of the word love.

is to see and enjoy, how he puts his face red apple. His shy and nervous smile mischievous look. His eyes, his look that I love, which never ceases to fascinate me, for more than 30 years.

And here I am, as I write, reminding smiling in different areas of their lives, their skin, shining and it looks fake. Of as her voice and her smile was changing wisdom acquired over the years.

Once I make up as clown costume that all dream ever wear or use. I remember sitting on a sideboard, while waiting, just deadly, they gave me those costumes libérrimos Galician pipers, what you do for a mother.

_Disculpe, but where he bought that doll?

and asked a local lady was silent. As if the weather decides to get a break.

_Cuál doll? replied the owner of the premises, with great curiosity and even shocked by the absurdity of the question.

_Ese ...

Suddenly he heard the cry of the inquisitive lady, when she realized, that this clown was just a kid, absolutely catatonic.

It has been there since childhood.

Like any human relationship, we had our best and our far less, it was not easy, for example, have it sitting on a table to finish watching the soup dripping all over her clothing. I have killed at least about four million times and worship a zillion million.

is to see him leave, for a fool and confident, that terrible place in Caracas and embraced without telling us and tell us everything.

is knowing it's there, varied with his philosophy and his eyes.

is knowing that one eye was playful and has a letter horrible, horrible. Reaching pathetic.

is knowing that your butt is swollen, his walk is as unique as his humor, that if you step on an ant lining the floor, his smile is ironic that I learned, ja, ja, ja- shearing the hair cut from him

is to know that his shyness is directly proportional to his huge heart, not eating after 6 years and was insufferable as a teenager.

is knowing so many things ...

is remembering that he was born 6 months, weighing over two kilos, which lasted a month in an incubator, is suffered sleepless nights, is to have my mother for 2 weeks in bed, with rubella, and he with just more than a month old, like a dried frog with long coat, which could be a complete study of blood vessels and joints without desiccating.

is washing diapers. It is hate, forever and ever, in 1976 ... disposable diapers came to Venezuela in early 77. And now I say, my friends beginners, to bathing and diapering a baby is ultra hard ... I come to me with tales of the road. I certainly do not repeat the experience in my life. I also know that is just blah-blah-blah from me.

Back to the story.

I vomited, I urinated, I prepared the NAN, the S26, the nenerina, I heard wonderful concerts with their ERUT, I showed him walking and aeiou, I took him to school, I took him to the movies, he slept I gave him to eat, fight-and how- I spoke to did not speak, I sent it to shit, shit sent me, we hugged, we cried, we laughed, we went to fight and all those wonderful things that make a big brother to his younger brother.

_Ustedes are brothers?

a lady asked us point-blank.

Stupid question, I thought. If we do not seem physically at all. He ruddy altote, awesome and I as close to Turkish-with apologies to the Turks.

_Yes ... why? responded more courtesy than anything else.

_Tiene, incredibly, the same eyes and the same look.

This has been one of the beautiful gifts of life, knowing that I have your eyes, your eyes.

Now I'm fucked for life. Every time you hear the Triumphal March from Aida, The Alleluia of the Messiah. By association libertine ideas, I will remember him as that song to show you as a child and that life will be forgotten.

proud I was his best man. I personally apologize for this post ... is that my child was a cap and gown. He is a lawyer.

Juan Carlos I love you.

You know how he gets one, silly, corny, with children, that gives you life, when we celebrate their successes.

All the best for you.

PS: I have three brothers . Galleguísimos them. Every time I look in the mirror, I see Juan Carlos, in my eyes. See also, my brother Roberto Luis Antonio-yes ... implies the three-, I smile and I, a brother, Manuel Arturo, my voice. My three sons, the three of them ... I changed diapers, cloth-are more than my brothers.