Hi! I'm Hugo, from México. I'm 18 years old, and I want to tell a story about my grandfather, who died about thirteen years ago.
I was five at that time, and knew that my Grandfather was very sick, I didn't know really what was he suffering from, but nobody could tell me anything about him. I could remember the day: May 5th, 1985. It was a cloudy day, almost dark, and went to play to the backyard, on the swings. It was about five o'clock in the evening. Then I saw someone shaking his hand from the window of the next house (let me tell you that it was a really big house, so, I didn't catch the window for casuality!). It was my Grandfather!, of course I didn't know he had died an hour ago, so I shook my hand too. I think he came to say goodbye, because I couldn't.