He was a character. No ordinary man. He was a genius, a philanderer, a writer, a painter, a poet and a celebrated professor. I was young then, when I sat listening to his dissertations on life, his attacks to politicians, and his hatred towards the ordinary. I was too young then to celebrate such a man. He was in no way perfect, but he was perfect in his imperfection.
The last time I saw him; I was with my then brother in law who took immediately to his funny and critical chat. Listening to him was a lesson on life. I wish I could have brought a notebook with me so that I could have taken notes.
He was a character whom I miss today when I wish I could ask him his thoughts on life, now, nearing my fifties. The last time I saw him his advice was “Never grow old.” “Life is cruel, it gives you everything and later takes it all away slowly.” I drink to that, but I am afraid I won’t keep the promise or heed his advice. It’s not in my power to stop time and avoid getting old. A highly intelligent man with some strange advice for sure.
This great man was my grandfather: Delfin Carbonell Picazo.
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