Old man...

'First you are young; then you are middle-aged; then you are old; then you are wonderful.'
-Lady Diana Cooper

The crowing of a rooster transports me to the memory of that little wooden and tin house, across the dusty street from a humble tiny school in his beloved Guaypao. And there, in a little corner lying shirtless, with an old pair of pleated pants an old man dozed off while devouring each word of his treasured morning newspaper.
That old and ugly cockfighter who, much like newborn children was ugly just as he was beautiful.

We would wake up early mornings to the crowing of roosters who would give tribute to their master, father and idol; the same one who'd be followed by hens and chickens while he fed them saying: Pi, pi, pi, piiiii

That old black widow, who charmed women with his flirtatious personality would always make them smile. I never saw him get angry for more than a split second. He would always smile, and those few times when he wasn't, it was because he was thinking of a prank to play on one of his grandchildren.

Old grandpa 'Gil', a man who has been old since my earliest memories, and who always inspired respect and love, always giving them even if he would not get them in return.

Who would think that the same old man who rested upon that little corner had been poor, had worked cutting sugar cane, and had gathered some money with the sweat of his brow. He worked for his children, cared for grandchildren, buried a wife and he also buried a son.

What was he thinking in that little corner where only the breeze would caress him when no one was around? Was he recalling the moment when he met his beloved Salome? Or was he remembering his wedding, or the wedding of one of his daughters? Was he thinking of Tito, Pililo, Toly, or Ramfy in the Army as he silenty sobbed, thinking of how different his life would have been if he had lost just one of them.

No one knows, and no one will ever know...for all we know, Guaypao has lost a character; the roosters will continue to crow thanking God, despite the pair of old, pleated shorts that rest upon a bench alongside an old newspaper who has no one to read it; for no one rests in that little, forgotten corner at the balcony of the wooden and tin house across the dusty street from a humble school in his beloved Guaypao.

Now that old, ugly and beautiful cockfighter walks hand-in-hand with his wife and child, following his master, Father and idol who instead of 'pi, pi, pi, piii' says: 'No more pain, loneliness and suffering...Welcome home."

Lesson learned: Grandpa, I have always admired you more than you have admired me...