I would like to recount good times when I remembered him.
I have a vague memory of family, my mother and my two brothers in a park made up of 3 sections.
It's a place called CHAMIZAL, here in Cd. Juarez.
Where the grass was knee-deep.
I remember that it was very thick, sometimes, we would play hide and seek by lying down in the grasses.
I don't know if we went often.
But, there are few such memories.
There's one in particular.
Because my father was very hard to spend on us, the memory of an inflatable ball was very important. It was huge.
Colourful, in some areas transparent, as if it were a thread.
At that time my father had bought a huge van.
I'm bad at knowing car brands, but, it was comfortable.
He even bought her a miniature refrigerator.
It was comforting to be able to eat slices of boxed bread in that park.
There were trees that we could climb, and a lot of things that, for an inflatable ball, very thin, were a point of alert.
But, as children, we never thought about this.
We played for a long time, I don't know at what point we approached a car, and the antenna of the car brought tragedy.
The beautiful giant ball got caught in the antenna and struck out.
Far from feeling sadness.
It was scary.
That was a tragedy for us.
We couldn't even have the courage to speak.
We didn't want to go near the van, where the family was.
But, time always runs out.
That day I don't remember if he hit us, I'm not going to lie.
But, from there, he never bought anything from us.
Although, I only remember that he once bought us a basketball.
Or I don't know if we inherited it.
But I remember having one.
Also a volleyball one.
But, that was much later.
My memories about those balls are that we had a group of friends.
Being poor, we also have some kind that separates us from the poorer.
As a sub-society.
I remember that there were some children in a neighborhood, where the families of the workers of a very famous dairy in my city lived.
Which was a block away.
I have fond memories.
At the time, my paternal grandfather worked in the dairy.
It is said that once, for being rough with one of the cows, it kicked him so hard that he limped for a long time.
When all the friends, of all ages, got together.
The oldest were about 10 years old, the youngest about 3 or 4.
Some of us took turns playing with the little ones with a soft ball and the older ones used the basketball ball to play volleyball.
I remember what it's like to make a pass or a serve with that ball.
The burning in your skin made you want to give up, but you held on and kept playing.
I was never good at this game.
But, I know, I had a lot of fun.