![\"Fridi\"](\"https:\/\/www.moonbug.org\/log\/wp-content\/uploads\/2008\/08\/hasta-siempre-fridi.jpg\")
<\/p>\nOn August 19 we booked a flight for Buenos Aires, so that Gaby could have a chance to see her dad, whose health was rapidly deteriorating. The flight was scheduled for August 30th.<\/p>\n
Early in the morning of August 27, Gaby’s dad passed away.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
As I write this, Gaby’s on that flight, crossing the Atlantic.<\/p>\n
Fridi’s lust for life was incredible and will always be an inspiration for me.<\/p>\n
A memory I will cherish forever. The first time he came over to Belgium was also the first time we met in person. At that point, Gaby was already living with me.<\/p>\n
One grey snowy day the two of us were walking down the street and he all of a sudden came to a halt. Fridi looked at me solemnly, grabbed my right hand, and spoke to me in Spanish. “Mano”<\/i> was about the only word I understood — my Spanish was pretty much non-existent at the time. When he finished, he gave me a faux stern look, and I grinned sheepishly and uttered “si, si, heh heh!” <\/p>\n
When we arrived home, I told Gaby as best I could what he had been talking to me about, even though I hadn’t understood most of what he had said. She smiled for a moment, then responded: “He meant to tell you: ‘I hereby offer you the hand of my daughter.'”<\/p>\n