Note: All translations are via Google Translate. Google Translate is an amazing but imperfect tool. If at all possible please read the original. I am not liable, nor ethically nor morally nor legally, for the products of Google Translate.
Ojo: Todas las traducciones son por Google Translate. Esta es una herramienta asombrosa pero imperfecta. Si es posible es mejor leer la original. No tengo responsiblidad, ni por ética, ni por moralidad, ni por ley, por los productos de Google Translate.
Vent. Sonia says I need to vent.
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Is it true? Is it true the vent help? I do not know. But I think available to all. If I am available to all, I can not deny trying. If one is available to all has to be ready for everyday things as extraordinary as much. So here I go ...
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Deaths have been too. I can not remember the last time they were many. What's more, they are about where you go. At work, in the news, in my personal life, my family life. In any case I have been surprised. Maybe that's why I have not vented anything ...
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There are three I'll try. They have been more. Celebrities that I liked, family coworkers, etc. By this time not even know the number. But I'll try these three.
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"We can not all do great things. But we can all do small things with great love." Mother Teresa of Calcutta
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The first was in November and was called Ron Robinson. He was the best friend of my father during my childhood and like an uncle to me. The first memories I have of him are on the softball field and hallways bolinche. We shook hands so hard, I was wondering if you had muscles or what. He got angry fast but also calm down quickly. We took my dad and my brother and me fishing with his son. My dad knew little fishing and so depended on it. Also arranged things in our house, like putting shingles to the roof and insulation in the basement. It was the first person I heard say in real life, actually screaming, cursing those movies that my parents had forbidden me to say.
I coached a couple of years in baseball. It was an excellent coach. One enjoyed and competed at a time. I was never so happy as playing baseball with him. We always said we had to get ahead of the ball, even if you stick. "It only hurt for a moment" he would say. After competing with it in other sports like racquetball. It was a toss to compete with him. It became a moment to the other in a monster. You cursed if you won. It was the emcee at the wedding of my brother. He traveled six hours to mine, although we had not seen each other in years and never had met Sonia. I smiled and shook my hand so hard and asked if I had muscles or what.
He died on November 26 from cancer of unknown origin. I attended the funeral but did not cry at all. I don't cry often.
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Would that everything was as in baseball, you only hurt for a moment ....
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The second was in December and was my uncle Delano Wang, the husband of my aunt. He lived in Moorhead, Minnesota and grew up speaking Norwegian. "Ufta" he would say. For everything was "Ufta". He spoke as "Fargo" before there was "Fargo". He was the father of my closest cousins. He always said things as they were, did not alter their speech because you were a kid. I used to drink a lot of beers and make many jokes. My cousin did not like his jokes as a teenager but an adult himself liked. Had one of those big vans up table wearing ladies behind. They lent us when we went to Washington, DC It was super talented with wooden chairs and tables and doing these pods for their beloved. It was his way of saying "I love you" because you can not say "I love you" with vulgar Norwegian jokes . The last time I saw him last July, was in bad health but was unable to travel to Iowa. He got into the corner and made vulgar jokes in Norwegian.
He died on January 30 of a heart attack, after several years of declining health. I attended the wake and funeral but did not cry at all. I don't cry often.
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Ufta.
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The third was my friend and colleague Rich Oberfoell. He was only 46 years to die. He left a wife and child age apenitas my Orlandito. We did carpool for several times in his eleven years as a professor at West Liberty. He had lived in Venezuela like me, but not always equally opinábamos Venezuelans issues. Before you attack the cancer had an insatiable appetite for life. Telling the truth, I still had all the time fighting with him. Cancer is a fuck it's hard to win but Rich did try. So sometimes I felt bad because I did things I was looking forward reluctantly, as attending football games children. I complained and he offered to coach, cancer or not. What pod, right?
Rich sometimes tended to enojarles people that spoke his mind and was convinced he was right. I confess that this happened several times myself, but then I learned to just bite my tongue and now. He lacked the kind confidence, though. Rarely have I seen a person so dedicated to his principles. Campañaba for Obama in 2012 up to an oxygen tank. I went one evening to knock on doors and complained because it was drizzling. The last time I saw were at home in December and had to take air up to speak. I wondered if death already played but not bet because the blessed had won him so many times. He could take his family to Disneyworld and come surrendered. He texted me in the morning wanting us to see the Super Bowl together but did not leave the hospital. The last text you sent me said "ET GOING HOME !!" I know I had left the hospital. I never know is that if somewhere, knew that was soon to another kind of home.
He died on February 5 cancer that had originated in the nose. I will attend the wake and funeral. I do not know if I will cry. I don't cry often.
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I'm fed up with this shit. I know that death is part of life, but hell, God, that's enough, do not you think?
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