Monica Beatriz Gervasoni

Goodbye, the Angel of the pharmacy when she was girl and my mom had the age I am now, was fanatical for a program. Had you put everything that gave the viscous, old TV volume that transmitted a black-and-white to imagine colors; I swear that I could. The broadcast appeared a Lord, with nene large face. It looked like the angel with curlers, like the famous picture, and she had a smile to test of realities, presented a show of tango and so many things that they were a true lesson in culture. My mom looked at and listened to those fanatizada show but with an air of nostalgia. ion. Flavored with these times knew they would not return. After all she heard, dancing that suburban music loved but Dad was so pata hard for dancing that never could get chip to the floor, so I only had to comply with those compasses only le VES ear and spirit also. Like this that the days of this Mr program and its creation owned care of my mom.

And it was like that the screen through tended the hand, as a gentleman and invite other worlds that she could not access. He granted a Chair and an imaginary table in its television gala and gave him by table companion to the imagination. And there was MOM with impish smile remembering who knows that you illusions that they will not return. 11 Years ago that breast was, more memories; did not with her some who belong to me, like this, are joining then this modest tribute to this man that I’m glad you many days of your life. And he made it known havens of fine glitters darning with dreams gala. Thank you Lord and goodbye and know ud and their relatives that from now on, I, big woman wonder where find a Lord so big in spirit and so embedded in culture, an angel who tell me and show me that in life, also there, as in apothecary. The wise name with which baptize its programme for so many years.