When I was 12 years old my uncle decided to move to Morocco and open a hotel there. I wasn’t very happy because we were very close and I’ve always loved to spend time with him, I would usually go to his restaurant where, when I was small, I enjoyed watching him make new dishes.
At first, it was easy, we would talk every week. I would tell him how was going my school year, and he showed me the nice people he met abroad and how they helped him with the hotel. In a short time, I had good feelings about the place, and I couldn’t wait to go.
When Easter holidays arrived, I finally took a flight to Morocco and I arrived at the hotel, where my uncle was waiting for me. The trip was amazing, and we spent a lot of time together, just like we did before he left Valencia. But the farewell was hard because I didn’t know when I was going to see him again.
After the trip we continued chatting for some weeks, but as the time went by the weekly calls became monthly calls. I think it was because we felt like we didn’t have enough time to talk because work or school.
Nowadays, he continues living abroad and our relationship has become quite different but that is how life is and I know that if I need anything he would be there.
I like how you know that he is going to be there no matter what. It was interesting to know that other people have to deal with the same stuff. A really interesting story.
ReplyDeleteI really like your story because I feel identified,it is very difficult to maintain contact with a person who is in another country.
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