Another year in my life without my brother Beto. Another September to remember his life, thousands of images passing by with sounds and motion to remind me of my baby brother, his voice -the voice of my father and mine- his witty repartee, his unpredictable temper, his love of books, and above all his love for Latin music, jazz, his affection for all things Boricua, his love for his family.
Now his portrait looks eternally impassive from the wall of my studio, where he lives next to the two extremes of our mother's life in portraits. Both beautiful in memory, both terribly and sadly missed.
2 comments:
Q bonito Lalo!! Me has hecho llorar... Un beso.
Gracias, mi querida Ana.
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