你爺爺去世了。有天清晨很早的時候，爸爸到我房裡來說。他不在了 ，說完，他好像自己才聽到這個消息一樣，人像件外套一樣皺縮起來，哭了。我勇敢的爸爸哭了。我從來沒看過爸爸哭，不知道該怎麼辦。
我知道他要走了，他會坐飛機去墨西哥，所有的叔叔嬸嬸都會去那裡。他們會拍上一張黑白照片，在擺著白色花瓶的墓地邊，花瓶里插著長矛狀的花束。在那個國家裡，人們就那樣送別死者。
因為我是最大的孩子，爸爸最先和我說起，現在輪到我來告訴別的人。我會解釋為什麼我們不能玩耍。我會告訴他們今天要安靜。
我的爸爸，厚厚的手掌沉沉的鞋，黑暗裡疲憊地起身，蘸水梳頭，喝掉咖啡，平日在我們醒來之前就走了的爸爸，今天正坐在我的床邊。
我想要是我自己的爸爸死去了我會做什麼。於是我把爸爸抱在懷裡，我要抱啊抱啊抱住他。
Your abuelito is dead, Papa says early one m in my room. Est muerto, and then as if he just heard the news himself, crumples like a coat and cries, my brave Papa cries. I have never seen my Papa cry and don''t know what to do.
I know he will have to go away, that he will take a plao Mexico, all the uncles and aunts will be there, and they will have a blad-white photo taken in front of the tomb with flowers shaped like spears in a white vase because this is how they send the dead away in that try.
Because I am the oldest, my father has told me first, and now it is my turn to tell the others. I will have to explain why we ''t play. I will have to tell them to be quiet today.
My Papa, his thick hands and thick shoes, who wakes up tired in the dark, who bs his hair with water, drinks his coffee, and is gone before we wake, today is sitting on my bed.
And I think if my oa died what would I do. I hold my Papa in my arms. I hold and hold and hold him.