He had a nickname, never knew why they called him "Manayo"
He was very friendly and must have liked that name.
His real name was Manuel like my father.
The day my father died Uncle Sam came to pick him up.
My mother begged them to let him stay for a couple of months.
Then later the military came home and took him away; we all cried!
He serve his time during the Vietnam War. He came home safe.
Later he got sick from his throat and could not sing anymore.
He was a lot of fun always playing his guitar and singing.
Once he tried to tell me something. I did not understand him.
We held hands and felt a silent pain for we knew he had cancer.
Several months after he was gone, I kept thinking about that feeling.
One time I went to my mother's house and I heard him playing with a bunch of kids.
He was laughing. I walked in and I couldn't believed it.
He saw me and looked at me.
"Don't worry about me anymore. I can talk and laugh now; go and tell my mom that."
I heard his voice and almost cried.
Suddenly I woke up with tears in my eyes for it was just a dream.
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