We are talking about dreams.
One of my dreams is that someday I will write a screenplay for a movie. The story that I will tell is the story of my grandfather and grandmother’s lives. It will be a love story that starts the day my grandmother dies and I am helping my grandfather get dressed for her funeral.
The story takes place in Berlin a little town in the side of a volcano in El Salvador, Central America in the mid nineteen sixties.
My grandfather is looking at his suits and can’t find one that he wants to wear. He tells me they are all out of style and points to the lapels, he finally chooses one and says to me: “The first time your grandmother came to live here she came by oxcart, the monkeys were still hanging from the trees, and now she is leaving in a funeral car.”
The story will unfold from this point.
My grandfather at sixteen years old saying goodby to his mother in Scotland and boarding a ship to cross the Atlantic to go to El Salvador in 1897.
I know I will have to do a lot of research, and unfortunately my mother and my aunts and uncles have passed away so they will not be able to help me. A lot will probably be my imagination and fantasy.