April 2009

's voice to the dead

Republican

Mi Reina deserves a farewell with honors, in the absence of a Viking longship to throw the flaming arrows and disappear over the horizon to see one of your loved ones laugh.

again I have the feeling that there was a mad screenwriter bundling and loosened the vicissitudes of life and death as speculating that even he is unclear. There are many things that I mean no particular order, and others forget that many more say, although probably as or more important than the will say.

Those who really know Gloria know that behind this great woman, for his heart and his stature, he hid a lot of insecurity which in turn was hidden with loud laughter, shouting emphatic or even racing through the streets to flee the world.

were many times when it is underestimated, which complained that frightened people and their way of being so "desmanotada" and nobody wanted anything to her, who had gradually lost all their friends for lack of treatment. There were many times when she felt alone, helpless, with a little girl crying inside a little love in an adult woman's body, in theory "should not be allowed such abuses."

But those who knew her know that the protocols were not much with it. They know that he had no qualms about speaking his mind (sometimes with love, others with all the evil in the world), running away, perhaps in response to a cry surprised if someone crying in the office in one of its infinite University desolate evenings.

In recent years I got my way through many of their armor, and vigor vote that cost me more than a race to reach it on the run and force a more rational and calm approach to their problems.

She was my "mother duck" at the University ("mother duck" syndrome is caused by the first teacher that gives you class at the University), in the case of Glo, being so frightened humanity open to students, ipso facto caused a feeling of security to consult any questions regarding the University, and later translated into a general feeling of closeness in so many areas of life. It was more than a teacher, the friend who is invited to weddings and christenings, who are used to certain types of dilemmas was a real mentor in all aspects, as it was wise when giving advice or just hugs , listen. So

that, as a mentor, teacher and friend, I tried to reciprocate by making him see what has been told: that many people had managed to improve in your life and even reach their dreams, there were many people who admired (I am the first!) for their many qualities, which may not have much contact with certain people, but probably because she had not asked for that contact, and ask if he would realize how many were there.

Gloria In this symbiosis was slowly changing attitudes. He realized that although many of the things he said were incorrect, some of the questions were appropriate. What's more, the fact be questions that did not know the answer help researchers and understood.

four months ago, ironically just before the start of the carnage, I wrote an email from Galicia telling me that the retreat had sat perfectly, he was filled with nothing to complain about, in particular, felt happy about having a job he loved and where he could deal with interesting people, and felt very lucky to have a daughter who was growing up so well that sometimes I thought where would such a good self-control (as opposed to their own stories when I was a child and headaches that would be likely to mother). He liked the idea of \u200b\u200b"face" the challenge of seeing his daughter grow, to have the suffering of mother and enjoy when they started to like boys. Of when they could talk about their stuff. Moreover also wanted to do well for his own mother was proud as possible.

In the dark days to come let me repeatedly hinted that he was afraid of having done wrong with your daughter and her mother have disappointed, the issue of starting to smoke almost like being contrary, knowing what happened his father and the disappointment that would give it if something happens. And how, though I ended up leaving a few years ago, still had the feeling that one day, when everything in his life was good, giving tumor would a bad surprise.

unfortunately, happened in this last part. But not in the vision that his mother had of her, in his last days did not lack occasions he was surprised that the image that his mother had of her was vastly better than she thought. And his daughter showed him a base that was well prepared to cope with adversity, major issues that might be. If there was a proud mother of her daughter, that was Glo. And if a daughter should be proud of his mother, that's Mary.

One concern was that Mary learned recently away from the lesson of snuff and general self-destruction. Under no circumstances would not have committed the stupidity that she made her twenties. This message would also be extended to Antonio, because he knew that if anything happened, he would need all the strength and wisdom possible to proceed with the work that would so willingly wanted to share to raise and watch her daughter grow .

From Glo hobbies much has been said, loved to swim (he was pleasantly identified with the hippopotamus of the cartoons of the Country "Hiccup, Popo Pota Tamo and" would have loved yesterday's), I was learning to skate (or to get a hard ass callus-based), and loved music. I felt a great admiration for people who can read music and play an instrument, people who understood the language of music (and as a professor specializing in languages, in turn she had an understanding of the implications that many musicians are certainly not). Babita was falling watching the "grow" their young, attending their progress, going to his reading of the project or to receive visits from his former students, telling them how they did in life, and inviting her to weddings and christenings. I will miss not being able to invite her to my own.

The admiration was part of their way of life. There are so many people he admired, many who do not know that people will never know as she professed so much affection JENUI colleagues, the great Forges, JA Miller, JJ Miles (or vice versa, she always confused and I am not to be less), several cartoonists, Kiri Te Kanawa (thank you for being able to have attended this concert), the sizzling Doctor Divago (which are orphaned of his number one fan), especially women writers and their unconditional Marujita Torres , women scientists, women entrepreneurs who, like her, had left behind the "that's a guy thing" and proved their worth.

Because if something was against she was struggling against victimization of women (which as stated in the header of your blog, always remembered as a banner to abate), oppression of the weak, the hypocrisy of politicians and their cronies (SGAE can congratulate the unless you have tremendous detractor), all the things that led him to commune with Amnesty International in its attempt to make the world a better place.

a better place ... a place to put Doctor Divago or any other song of its huge playlist in the office or at home at full volume, and marked a casual shimmy with friends and family. A place to have their longed rutinitas (I just realize the pun which means that your teacher appreciate programming routines), and read all those sites linked from his blog, take a look at the news of meneame, llamamelola to videos, the "I can not believe I have invented," to the millions of curiosities, in short, who regaled us from time to time in the mail. And every link carefully filtered for each person, any of those hated spam messages indiscriminately.

His work as a teacher ... Well, what I say. I expect students to also let you squeeze the most orphans in his memory. She admired people able to give even a little more than yes, many obstacles they might have. Ernest Breva or Natxo know much about it.
was proud of how he had been the subject of his doctoral thesis, more compatible with family life. His "systolic" and their stories PhD (mixed with several of Tito Domingo and many other people whose names unfortunately forgot) were common in their time "war stories grandmother's onion", where he got his best wistful smile and uninhibited laughter. For a few complex, unusual decor of his office, full of cuts and the eternal promise to clean up one day, with the full slate of artistic squiggles of his daughter (and expressly prohibiting clear) and computer-tupperware everlasting manzanita sounding music at full blast on the desktop.

The laughter that filled the ground floor of office building and not come back to listen. His beautiful voice, warm, velvety (I always somehow reminded of Lydia Bosch, but she seemed no comparison at all adequate, did not like her voice or Lydia Bosch) no longer teach about the stage Mysteries of automata, languages, numbers "stupid", "super", "troublemakers", or any of those groups that always bugged him that this did not exist and that the names were invented on the fly.

No more walks on the beach at Castellon complaining that we do not have no fucking idea what a wave, but in return we have a beautiful sky colors. No more stories tell us when it was the largest in the class or when a big man's career lifted a weight. All the stories he told me of his life and that my memory failed to retain in detail, stories that I hope someone remembers and can tell her daughter someday, because they are fun and show the true Glo, which as soon as itchy with his teacher on average TALF drunk at a party ruling that yes, it's worth, that her ass was fat and hairy but it was his and he liked it.

The Glo playing with numbers and letters, who loved Sagan and his series and his books, the mistress of the cousins \u200b\u200band the Irrational (now laugh, saying that the sentence is ambiguous), the gap left in many of us is so great that only you can fill with memories.

Some people are not told what he thought of it, and people that she does not even said what he thought of them. At least I could say all this in due course, in times when sometimes lost its way, only to recover soon and apologize for those moments of weakness. Those moments when he remembered the words of Alfred in Batman Begins, "Why do we fall? To learn how to stand up." And I learned to stand up. And he fell again. And he got up again and this time enduring a little feet, and was callous to fall again. And back up.

life Throughout this story, in which she had finally decided that I wanted to and wrote on their own pages, was a crazy writer who sentenced her character was finally complete, and it was time to give final to his work.

On this day almost a hundred years ago the Titanic sank, too late at night. The unsinkable ship. Today
titanic was a woman, and the world is a little uglier and sadder without her laugh ... above all, their laughter.

If there is anyone who mourn worth, Randy Pausch is our particular. If she were here, remember the act of collecting dunedianos finger tears to drink it (in Dune, the water left over and he was very shocked that scene). As she is not here, or rather, is widespread in the thousands of people who knew her, the hundreds at that changed the course, the dozens who knew her closely and the handful who dearly loved her, we remember it.

Make the world a little better. No matter how or when, just do it. And not for her. Do it for those who stayed, and do it for those who come. And smile as you can enjuagaros tears, because it is she had always defended.

Hopefully we meet again. Thanks, Glo, and forever.