Today I pay tribute to my maternal grandfather, Prof. Juan Daniel Cordoba, a remarkable man and fine artist, whose life was not without a great deal of struggle. He was the natural son of a wealthy landowner and a dressmaker. With an absent father, he had to fight his own battles. It was not easy to be an extramarital child at that time. We have become more tolerant now.
He worked very hard and self-funded his studies, becoming a professor of Fine Arts. Grandfather specialised in certain styles of Argentine native pottery and was an oil painter. The home that he built with his own hands was the showcase of his creations. The house was a work of art in itself; the most charming little cottage in the Argentine Sierras. A combination of an alpine villa and a hobbit’s retreat where one could find bespoke features all over the place. There, how much I loved trying to make sense of Grandpa's writings and his almost mystical paintings and sculptures!
Grandfather’s life was cut short, too short at 49 years of age, when after being diagnosed with cancer he passed away in a month. Four orphan daughters and a devoted wife were left behind. I never met him as he died before I was even conceived. My now late grandmother Hilda, taught me to love and admire him and I feel, somehow, that a part of him lives in me. I believe in the resurrection; I am glad I do. I believe that one day he will hear his call and come back and we shall meet. How I long for that! I dedicate this blog to him.