I do not usually talk about my family and I have never taken any pictures of my family (his face). But I think it deserves the chance to break this rule that I had.
Last Wednesday, August 5, my grandmother died, after nearly 20 days of suffering. (I have just talked about her here)Yesterday we went to bury her.
And as I write these lines, I realize its loss. I am sad, but it is the law of life. But I don't want to leave a sad words in honor to my last grandmother.
I've been lucky enough to know her for 34 years (maybe when I was a baby I do not remember). To define a word that my grandmother is the STRENGTH of (my mother is very similar to my grandmother). She knew how to push his family (5 children) during the post-war (during the dictatorship of General Franco).
My memories of childhood and youth to lead me on Sundays. Almost every Sunday we went to her home, about 20 people in an area of 15 square meters. My grandmother was a great cook.