I Miss My Grandfather Who Passed Away

When I was a kid, my grandfather told me stories of his life in a tiny village in the very poor Spain in the beginning of 20th century. Stories of how his first wife and three kids died of illnesses that today are easily cured, but were deadly then. From my grandfather I learnt that life can be really hard, and that I was lucky to live in times of peace and prosperity.

My grandfather had many different jobs to keep his family afloat. From 1933 and 1935 he belonged to a military police force. Those were really troubled times in a country who would see a civil war starting soon.

Today I learnt from my mother that my grandfather was briefly assigned to a post in the town where I am currently working and living in, and most important, that he was a great great man.

He was fired from the police force as a consequence of his refusal to take part in the shooting of a group of alleged political adversaries, including a pregnant woman. Taking such a decision was very risky then, it could mean being labelled a dissident and getting into trouble. Fortunately nothing happened to him.

My grampa died when I was a teenager. I wish I could have had more talks and spent more time with him. My grampa was a hero.