The pain, however, that I have will be with me until the end of my days. This celebration reminds me that I do not have my dad with me. That I have no one to greet. The pain is deep, constant and alive. But beyond hurting I also know that he is not here with me. HERE with me. On the other side, yes. And someday when I leave I'll see him again, and hug and share a glass of wine, a beer, a barbecue with him. He's going to nag me again for something I said or did. He will tell me that he saw how I decorated my house for this or that date and he will tell me that he liked a certain detail. He will criticize me maybe one or the other step when I dance the cueca. He will talk to me about a soccer match that we saw, him there and me here, about a presidential candidate who will make us laugh, anyway ... as he always was. As it is not anymore. And how will it be ... on the other side.
Happy Day Jano, my children's dad, who adore you.
Happy Father's Day ... I can not hug you, but I will one day.