I asked my father if AI scares him.

There is an archive no one has watched.

I’ve been building since 2013. Thirteen years of setbacks, resets and defeats no one saw but me. But I filmed them. I still don’t know what story they will tell.

I call it twenty-eight thousand days… a record I keep against the length of a life. Almost none of it has left the room. Beside it sits my own daytimer, where I write the stories down so I can find my way back to them in the films.

My father gives my mother credit for every business they tried together, even the ones that didn’t work out. With his business partner, Octavio Aguirre, he built the company that is now twenty-six years old.

Those twenty-six years began “with fear, with dread, with uncertainty.” They were never recorded.

I wish I could see one ordinary day from the beginning. What my parents said to each other. What they were afraid to say. Before they knew what those years would become.

I have his words now. I’m beginning to understand how much life can fit inside a sentence, and how much remains outside it.

So the camera is running and the daytimer is open as we build Medikah and our own AI and medical platform for doctors. I want to remember the work while we’re still in it, before we know how it turns out.

What my father once started with a pigeonhole rack became a machine that did the work of more than five hundred people.

Last weekend I asked him whether AI scares him.

When he talks about building, he says that at the end you get to weigh it all and ask whether it was worth it. I wonder what he could see halfway through his own twenty-six.

His answer is still the sentence I hope to earn.

“It was worth it, to build that.”

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entry 05 · my father. mi papá.
English and Spanish subtitles · Subtítulos en inglés y español
Music: “Wildflowers” by Scott Buckley (CC BY 4.0)