January 3rd, 1994 was the day my father passed away. I was only 12 years old at the time, but remember the night like it was yesterday. My mother had me staying over at a friend's house and I was woken early in the night by my friend's older sister--Vera--who had the unfortunate job of breaking the bad news to me. I'm sure it wasn't easy. Ze Monico was the one who drove me home that night, and told me how everything was going to be okay. I also remember him telling me how peaceful it was that night and how my father was a great man and will always watch over my mother and I.
When I made it home, our living room was filled with people grieving over my father's passing. I touched his hand one last time, my mother broke down in tears, and eventually we retired upstairs to try to get some rest. My role model was gone...
Now 18 years later, rarely does a day go by where I don't think of the things he accomplished in his life. The friends he made, his ability to always put others first, his sense of humor, his patience, his artwork, his perfectionism, his passion for music and technology. My only hope is to accomplish half the things he was able to in his short lifetime, and even that is very optimistic.
Dad, I'm grateful for the 12 years we had together. You will always be missed.
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