If you're portuguese, this date means a lot to you, as it does to me.
This was the day that the people, tired of years of dictarorship, flooded the streets with determination, strenght, titles of freedom and red carnations. A revolution had taken place, and no one was to stop these mighty man and women to accomplish what they had been working for for so long: freedom. This day changed the history of our country, because of those brave, unforgetable people, that fought for the most tresured gift on on Earth: the gift of choosing for themselves.
My father was among those men.
I wish I could be there when he came home that night; to see his smile, the feeling of accomplishment; to see them hug my mom and my brother and sisters; to watch them weep of happiness.
The next morning everyone welcomed the new spirit of the land. We were now a free country, and the portuguese people could choose their leaders; they could talk without fear, they could go where they pleased, they could worship God however they wished. They welcomed new ideas, new religions, new perspectives. All this was such a blessing to my father! He couldn't be happier.... but still, there was something else we welcomed even more that day.
On this very first day of new begginings, he welcomed me in his arms.
And that, I wish I could remember too. The way he held me, the way he probably told me all the events of the day before. Oh, how I wish I had a memory of that!
Every year on this day, the 26th, my heart aches a bit. I always want to hug him and celebrate freedom with him; I want to thank him for being such a big political influence in that marvelous revolution. I want to look at him and tell him how I love him.
My father only got to celebrate April 25th one year. On May of 1975, he died on a tragic car accident. And even though I don't have a single memory of him, I get to share this legacy... and my heart has a place that belongs just to him.
I love you dad.
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