The Spaces Between Your Fingers

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This a memory of my grandfather from the year directly after the death of my grandmother. He's normally very calm and reserved, but while he was telling me this his voice shook multiple times. He gazed longingly into a picture that my grandmother had drawn the whole time. I wrote this in his voice, to protect his memory.

“Oscar, if you’re playing around with me and there’s nothing at the end of this long drive that grabs my attention; we’re gonna have ourselves a real big problem. I specifically remember telling you I never wanted to do anything like this again.” Ramon sighed puffing on his cigar

“Brother of course there is, I wouldn’t bring you out here for no reason you know me. Just sit tight we’ll be there in 10 or so minutes. So, how’s everything going? It’s been a long-time man. How’s Marina?” Oscar replied searching for conversation.

Ramon began to think. Puffing on his cigar as an image of his beautiful wife manifested itself in front of him.

“She had all of my love. She was so amazing, I never thought for a second, I’d have the chance to make her my wife. I always thought she loved Pablito. God really blessed me huh.“ Ramon whispered under his breath; his words protected by the humming of the car.

“She died Oscar, last year in an accident. Everything is great.” He said looking longingly toward the coconut trees in the distance.

A thought forced its way into his head. Somewhere within those trees she might be waiting for him. He had hoped that this trip back home would help him forget the hole in his heart for a little bit. As he was looking on into the wilds that surrounded the highway, a single tear forced itself from his right eye.

“Oh.” Is all Oscar could force from his lips

“I’m… I’m so sorry brother- she was an amazing woman.”

Ramon wiped the tear from his cheek and look onto the highway in front of him.

“Thanks. How far are we from the town?” Ramon asked looking on into the roads ahead

Oscar and Ramon

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2017
Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic

This a memory of my grandfather from the year directly after the death of my grandmother. He's normally very calm and reserved, but while he was telling me this his voice shook multiple times. He gazed longingly into a picture that my grandmother had drawn the whole time. I wrote this in his voice, to protect his memory.

Decade: 2010s
Rating:
Recorded by Robertson Garcia on June 2, 2020
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