Dad ... memories ...
As I reread the words of Isabel Allende I thought back on those memories I have of my father. They seem so 'few, if to count only on the tips of the fingers. Some are fixed, stable, others come in flashes, in front of some items and recalled the words of her mother, ready to dive back into the darkness of the past. I think that makes it so 'hard to remain attached to those memories is the fact that my life has changed in a radical way, and after my father died. Senon know it 's true, if there was my mother to testify would seem to me that everything was a confused dream, unreal. I no longer live 'in the same house where I lived with my father for most of the time, few people I have not hung out more 'views, all the habits, way of life that I have absolutely dissolved in an instant, what he and' ended up in hospital and I just started the sixth grade.
I decided to write here something about me and him and me 'dear and all that comes to mind again or risk losing it ... because the contours of the memories become blurred with time, the details are confused and you do not know 'where the memory fades and ends up in fantasy. And I want to remember my father.
living room and I'm small, I should not have more 'than 5 years. I walked through the door that was behind the chair where Pope 'looked at TV and I walked trying not to make noise, slipped through a side behind the antiques that were on his right, then I accuattavo on the ground and crawled on his elbows like a soldier in front of him trying to cover behind the wooden table in front of his chair and then climbed on the couch to his left and said, " ; Pope 'I am here "and he pretended to be afraid of not having seen and not heard me every time I did this game.
We are in the car and I'm watching the signs, I had the habit of having to read all of them and twisting his head to be able to see those in the opposite lane. With Pope 'always sang two songs together in the car, what he liked and made me laugh. "Tan moon, tan-colored milk, all cats over the rooftops and you become pale! Tin tin tin moonbeams "" At the foot of Kilimanjaro, paraponiponzipo, there is a nation of niggas who invented many dances .... We are the Watussi Watussi the highest niggaz! Ogno three pasi every three steps we six meters! "Every time we promised that we would have bought the house to listen to and sing for all and good, but 'this is one of the things that we have never managed to do.
I still remember every time I walked into his office and asked him to draw the sheets (I only did that as a child) and he gave me those for your printer, first white, the other with staves Griggi and white while the side was a band that could tear perforated. finished work to bring him the most beautiful design and made them hang me with his scotch to the cabinet of documents: it was fully carpeted.
The drawings were not the only things that kept: in the study had a small Jerry (the mouse in the cartoon), rubber, pouting and smoking: evevo said it was him. He always kept.
Attached to the pen he used was the hind legs of a frog rubber: chupa chupes came out with, everyone had the front or back of an animal and then united them. He always kept attached to his Bic.
One day I saw on a magazine for children how to make a paper doll: the drew, Colorao and cut out and put a ring of wool x appendix and the pope gave to ': he took (it was not nothing to it) the car port and placed in the department of the document just above the driver, to have something in my car, ever. And 'maybe one of the most' beautiful as I can remember, even if that doll and 'got lost when we sold the car to the death of Pope' and Mom forgot 'to take it.
Cosi 'and is' lost even Snoopy, the smell x-shaped machine that character of the cartoons, which remained in the car with us for years now because we were both fond of.
There are also passed to the Sunday markets Antiques in Taranto, Brindisi, Ostuni. Pope 'often took me with him and we shot through the stalls and every time we went out together I bought a book or a magazine. I still dear to me so many mice and Donald Duck and the books of Asterix and Obelix.
These are some of my memories more 'dear and important to preserve. Others write them 'with more' calm and patience but it 's sad that they are very' few of these ... Report
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