In my grandfather’s house was a liquor bar, it was the most complete that I had seen. The day of my 12th birthday, he told me: "This bottle of 1980 wine is yours; you’ll drink it in my memory the day of my death". It was a very sad gift for what it meant, and he told me that I should be happy, because with that gift I would always remember him.

One winter Sunday, I received the news of my grandfather's death. The rain and my tears were one. When I arrived at the grandfather's house, I remembered the gift he had left me. I went to the bar and took the bottle of wine. I noticed that the bottle was very light, and I realized that it had already been opened and inside the bottle there was a paper. I pulled the paper out and as I read it, the tears kept rolling down my cheeks. My grandfather wrote: "Dear grandson, my soul is still alive in the Chevrolet Bel Air 1958 that is now yours ... I love you".