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Green
To pay back for what grandfather did for me I would need at least a couple of life times. The last time I saw him was at the airport Merino Benitez, in Santiago, Chile in October of 1985. He was tall and handsome. For a moment he carried me away from the group formed by grandmother and my mother in law and her daughter. He gave me a hug and put a green roll of bill in my right hand. Take care of yourself, and let me know where you will be. He cried, it was the first time in twenty years I saw grandfather cry. We will always love you. he said drying his tears with a white handkerchief he always had in his pocket. Don't cry, I will be back soon I promised him. You will not be back soon and this is the last time we see you he told me with serenity. I remembered his words this past Sunday talking to my mother over the phone, she told me she was visiting him at the cemetery. So strange. I told her. I saw him last night , this time he was laughing with Elena, my youngest. He visited me very often. He was right. I was never back there. I never stopped meeting him here He visits me before bad things happen, as a warning, he brings me peace when I need it. I meet him at the rise of the sun and at luminous nights of full moon. More often in dreams and in the face of Lincoln that appear in the bills of the green roll he put in my hand.
Also from Mariela Griffor: Detroit
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