Both hands

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…And you held my hands, both of them. As I hold you now in my heart. My hands don’t forget the strong and gentle hold. I’m not alone.

You gave me strength, in a good and also in a not so good way. We are alike in many ways. I forgive you, I forgive myself. We are learning, all of us.

The saturday night movie, the talks about traffic, my wedding, my mother and my late ending childhood await… there are moments we didn’t get to share. I’m torn. So soon, so sad, so fast. Oh, life!

It will always hurt imagining one or more little mouths of my own learning about life and love, learning to walk and talk, without Buba being one of their first face associated words.

I miss you. Buenas noches, papi.

 

 

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