The street with colorful umbrellas

Águeda, Aveiro, Portugal

I remember... I was a little kid and we were walking in the hot sun. You always wore your head, a colorful umbrella ... One day I asked you, why is he all? there was a collection (no less beautiful). ... Appeared in the corner of your mouth, a hidden smile, and your eyes were shining as if the sun had been reflected in them ... ... turning the umbrella ... ... My dear child, you are small to understand, but I will satisfy your curiosity. When I stand under the white line, I suppress the disappointment of the people who are significant to me, under the yellow tape I hide in the hope that I will forget their lies, the red reminds me that I love nevertheless, the green that I can forgive, blue, yes ... blue is my beloved, she gives me the freedom to believe in the real, not ending, beautiful things ... ... I did not understand your words, but I secretly prayed this umbrella to be mine ... ... and you gave it to me ... ... After so many years, holding this same colorful umbrella on which the colors have faded almost to nerazpoznavaemost not want to believe that the man who my curiosity, you, my beloved Grandma ... I could overcome all your pain, wipe out every hidden your tear behind the edge of your lips, save you the weight of wearing that umbrella ... alas, now I understand that I can not ... this was your test. I want, (I think I will always want), to get a little closer to the image I have painted in my heart to have time to thank you for the gift (I never did) ... ... I want it, I really like ... ... but the time flew through us like a hurricane, took you away, and left me under the hot sun, spinning in my hands, a colorful umbrella.