Minions,
Tomorrow is my father’s 74th birthday so I wanted to write something truly poignant. I’ve had some difficulty because the love I have for him is obviously more internal and (stubbornly) biased. So, I offer this very short “history” of my father. Hopefully you’ll read this, and even relate a little bit.
Tomorrow is my father’s 74th birthday so I wanted to write something truly poignant. I’ve had some difficulty because the love I have for him is obviously more internal and (stubbornly) biased. So, I offer this very short “history” of my father. Hopefully you’ll read this, and even relate a little bit.
Please to enhoy -
The interesting thing about my father is that my brothers and sisters all feel slightly different about how we grew up around him; he was certainly dynamic. Sometimes hard, sometimes aloof, sometimes playful, he was everything to everybody but very much his own person. We never saw any part of him that was weak...Perhaps that was an unwritten requirement of his generation. But we never doubted his love for us. For me, my father was very close to a superhero. He seemed super human - Incredibly strong. Gifted, with what the "greatest generation" considered necessary: learn everything, rely on your own abilities. He was mechanic, carpenter, plumber, electrician, and Daddy - all at once. No wasted movements, just pure desire to complete the mission.
One of my greatest memories of him occurred when I was in grammar school:
The interesting thing about my father is that my brothers and sisters all feel slightly different about how we grew up around him; he was certainly dynamic. Sometimes hard, sometimes aloof, sometimes playful, he was everything to everybody but very much his own person. We never saw any part of him that was weak...Perhaps that was an unwritten requirement of his generation. But we never doubted his love for us. For me, my father was very close to a superhero. He seemed super human - Incredibly strong. Gifted, with what the "greatest generation" considered necessary: learn everything, rely on your own abilities. He was mechanic, carpenter, plumber, electrician, and Daddy - all at once. No wasted movements, just pure desire to complete the mission.
One of my greatest memories of him occurred when I was in grammar school:
One day during recess, I was plopped onto one of the swings at our playground; not really swinging but sitting, and lonely. Suddenly, I felt a gentle push from behind. My first thought was that it was another student. I turned around to see my father behind me, a confident smile on his face, pushing my swing higher and higher. I had no idea where he came from, or how he was able to find me among the mass of other students on the playground. We said nothing, just him, me and our swing. I can still feel how I felt then: overwhelming comfort - pride in my very own superman. The bell ending recess rang. He then left, waving goodbye, that smile still pasted on his face, and my love for him, embedded in my heart.
Perhaps my father appearing out of nowhere, with nothing but love for his son, tenderly attending to me, was the catalyst for who I am today. I’d like to think so. Regardless, the tremendous thing about him is that in his mind this simple act had little to do with being a parent. For him, it was his own childhood innocence that moved me…
Feliz Cumpleanos, Daddy - Te amo mucho.
WOW, what a great story my little brother. It brought tears to my eyes. Daddy would be proud!
ReplyDeletevery, very sweet.
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