by Mauricio Vallejo Márquez never
I had come close to that huge wall of death and night. I never wanted to find among the many lines of life the name of Edgar Vallejo Mauricio Marroquín, but today I did. And surrounded by that list I saw my father smile like smile in the mirror and I saw myself and how I was sure those mornings and evenings when he looked in the mirror.
front of his name my son asks if that is your grandfather. Yes, there is his name. I am the first of the family visit (with my son and wife, ie the first) to play those huge white letters on the black box. Before him, dust and us. Looking without seeing (at least me) and I think it was prudent to wait. And to walk, the evening is still young and the day and time. But for the first time in my life I felt I saw my father and that's enough.
Mauricio Vallejo Márquez, Salvadoran writer. Know your route and their works. 
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