Benedito Goncalo Cruz Pereira
Bobby was a wreck.
I did not know what to do in order to make him feel better. It was the twenty-fourth of December and we would be going to his parents that afternoon to have a Christmas Eve dinner and spend the night. Yet I wondered would it be a festive day or a gloomy one.
He was one of the strongest people I knew and in just three weeks, he had had a massive high by winning the PBR but massive lows by his hip replacement surgery and now the news of his father.
It had been a terrible month for him and I wished I could do anything to make him feel better, but unfortunately no amount of money or gifts could cheer him up. Most of the time he was just in bed sleeping.
At times in the middle of the night I would hear him cry softly and I could not even try to pull him to my side because of his hip. All I could do was hold his hand and reassure him everything would be okay.
