I’m in the passing zone now. That’s what I call it. I sit sometimes and start counting the people I’ve known who are gone. Two hundred, easy. Just like that. It gives you a warning, you know. Nobody likes to think about it, but really, you should. Could be this is your last day. I’ve outlived two generations already, and I count that a gift, believe me.
I never had much school. For a long time I couldn’t even read or write my own language. Funny thing — the old stuff I remember clear as anything, but ask me what I did yesterday and I’ve got nothing. I think I need a new brain. So this is just what I remember, the way I remember it. Some of it I’ve told a hundred times over. Some of it, well, I never told anybody.
I’ve been blessed more than I deserve, left and right. My mom and dad made me leave Paraguay when I didn’t want to go, and I’ll tell you, that was the best thing they ever did for me. Whatever we built here, that wasn’t just me either. People think I’m so smart. If it wasn’t for Grandma, none of it. You’ve got to have a wife who’s with you all the way. Almost in front.
It’s been a good life. I’ve had a lot of fun. Everything aches now, sure, but I’ve enjoyed it. You’re here for a good time, not for a long time.
So I’ll tell you what I know.