It takes time
My grandfather Oscar is very expressive and quiet, he is a silent storm. My grandfather will pierce you with massive and quiet words, but it took time.
He was born December the 28th, to very hardworking beings. He was brought up around his brothers and sisters, with a father that taught him to care and respect them and a mother whose love was eminent. They raised men and women with moral values, with a sense of responsibility and strength.
My grandfather was in school when he went up to his father and told him about a watch he wanted, to which his father asked what the price was and indicated: "Good. You will work, do some selling around the neighborhood, save the money and get it for yourself." So it was, he would go to a house: "Hello. Good afternoon. Would you like to buy some of this?", and he sold. Day after day, after da, after day he did this until he had enough money. He went to his father, they summed up what he had, and got the watch; he wore it proudly. Good things take time.
He grew and since his older brother was a doctor, my grandfather often says he decided to major in medicine mostly because he followed his brother's steps and admired him very much. After much studying, my grandfather became a doctor and did it successfully. In medicine, when your friends are out, you have to be studying, when everyone's graduating, you're still studying, and when your friends are getting married, you're still studying. After all, he did great and became a surgeon. He affirmatively remembers being paid quite well for his work as a surgeon but doesn't keep that close to him. Once, he went into the hospital, and saw a patient, his wife, and toddler. He waved at them and made them know he'd be back shortly, but the patient's wife told the kid: "Go hug the doctor!", he went, hugged him and as they got closer she said: "That's the man who saved your father's life". Good moments take time.
When my father was in his late teens, early 20's, he got along with a guy who did wrong but seemed cool. My father, Elías went to my grandfather and took his friend so he could meet him but my grandfather looked at my dad and said: "I don't like that guy. I don't want you to be friends with him." My father went out with his friend once again and as they walked, his friend acted violently and terribly at some kids who were in their way. My father remembered what his father taught him, but it took time. Good lessons take time.
Today, I constantly find myself with my grandfather's warm hand on my right shoulder and his head beside mine. He encourages me to work hard but teaches me that there are far more important things in life than what we see. In my left shoulder is my father's hand, who's much taller than me but whose arm is space for my head to rest in.
This takes time, these lessons take time to learn, what they have obtained takes time to get. The words and the astounding work of these men, whether it was made in silence or among a crowd, makes me want to be better, they make me want to take my time. Everyone's life is different and everyone lives differently but we must all learn this one lesson:
VALUABLE THINGS TAKE TIME.
My grandfather, his wife, son, daughter, grandchildren
My father and I