There is much truth to this. One of my most fond memories of the last time I saw my uncle was the night before we caught our bus out of Monterrey.
We stayed up until three in the morning, drinking beer and cooking various chickens over his tiny grill, talking with the neighbors, warming up tortillas and picking meat off of the bird and snacking.
I did not know it was the last I would ever see of him but I couldn't have planned it any better.
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