It often happens that over the years, what occupies our periphery leaves us first. At his age, words may become more and more elusive, or in his fertile mind, bright ideas may appear less and less frequently. He has been a writer, a creative soul, owner of a vast literary and intellectual wealth, but that is not exactly what we celebrated in his day with boleros, balloons and drinks. He looks them in the eye, listens to them, advises them, connects, loves. Those of us who know him know how he makes each of the people he meets feel unique and special. A non-perishable joy, the one that makes us smile when we remember someone dear, people like my father, who throughout his life has tirelessly distributed his light like an inexhaustible oil lamp. Have I listened to others enough when grief afflicted them? Celebrated your joys, understood and forgiven your limitations? Have I given them my uninterrupted attention when they needed it or have I been too busy, consumed with my own worries, absent on the mobile or absorbed by my little things? They say that life is a sneeze, but perhaps one with which you can infect many with joy.

Not because of the songs I’ve written, or the ideas that have occurred to me, not because of my artistic footprint but because of my human legacy. Remembering how loved and celebrated he is by all those around him has made me reflect on my own life and wonder if one day, like him, I will be able to reach an advanced age, clothed with so much and sincere love. This September 6 I have seen my father, reach his 90 years. The 5 posts of stories and photographs, caused more than 2,103,262 of interactions between his followers.

Shakira caused a sensation in the networks in the last hours.

Las canciones de mi padre