My Life in Argentina and Beyond

They couldn't find the vein, so they tried again. I hoped he would survive them. He was a fighter. I kissed him goodbye.

Tomorrow, September 18th, is the 24th anniversary of my father’s death in San Francisco. He died at around 3 A.M. My brother Alex woke me up and told me: Dad loved you very much. I jumped out of bed and went to my father’s room. After making the sign of the cross, I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

Saturday, August 8, 2009: Of all the unfortunate experiences I have had this time back in the U.S., the unexpected death of my dog in Argentina is the one that I regret the most. That is the one thing that makes me sadder than all the rest. Chiquito was a stray that I adopted shortly before my trip over here. I wish I had been able to bring him with me (I had his doggie passport and everything). The reception we would have received (Chiquito, Lauchita and me) would not have been good. Nevertheless, it would have been better to get him on the plane. If anybody was my soul mate, that dog was.

Thursday, July 9, 2009: I lost my mother on July 10, 1994. it is incredible that almost 15 years have gone by--15 hard years. My mother was a good woman, a woman who never forgot her own mother, my grandmother Ana. She lived 54 years without her and I believe that they are together up there in Heaven. My mother is probably smiling, the way she smiled that afternoon in Burbank when we went to the ice cream parlor to have an ice cream sundae and the chocolate syrup ran down her chin. That is my favorite memory of her. She was happy that day. She was not in any kind of pain, not emotional or physical or anything. She just was herself,the self she wanted to be.