Andras’ personal page

Don’t have many pics with me

None in my phone, only a few faded keepsakes around the house

The many memories I keep inside me, along how he and my mom raised me – to be real

My earliest memories?

Hard to tell

Him studying German, listening to end endless cassette tape in our old player. Wie heist du? Das Mädchen.. Many words burnt into me forever

The first time he and I went to visiti my baby Sister. Him holding her, craying with long black hair. A 6 year old boy watching with unexplainable excitement.

The many image of him in fishing gear, recounting stories of giant ones getting away.. and the occasional one that he would slay

Making sausages, his famous sausages..

The time I told him he looks like a famous poet, and how he laughed, just because he wore a knit scarf

The sadness in his eyes when grandma left us, A moment to see what really vibed behind his usually stern guise

The emptiness in his eyes, as he looked at me, distant, far, towards the end of his life

Sitting here by the sea. He took me to one when i was just three, a teardrop to salute that cute memory

The many nicknames he gave me, not uttered ever since we said good bye. Only I remember those, as a gift he left for me.

I will end here, incomplete.

Doesn’t matter how many lines, how many sweet or painful memories.. He is long gone. 11 years soon, hard to believe

I miss his calm and the touch of his warm, caring palm..