‘I would be nothing without you…’
-Wind Beneath my Wings
Weariness took a hold of us on our way back from New Orleans. It would later take us close to 24 hours to drive all the way back home. We spoke, sang, listened to multiple radiostations, argued and many other minor forgettable things…now, one particular moment would change my life. They played a song some Hispanic songstress dedicated to her deceased father.
The song would bring tears to my eyes…
My father was a serious-minded individual who would joke more with strangers than with us. He was outgoing with others but stern with us. Dad would not sit beside me to help me with my homework. He didn’t talk to me about sex during my teenager years. I don’t remember him saying ‘I love you son’ or ‘I’m so proud of you’. My father never bought me a car. He didn’t talk much, always hiding behind his newspaper, reading himself to sleep after coming in from work. My father just gave me $2.00 each day for lunch. He didn’t buy me nice clothes or shoes. Dad would never buy me a drink, and never taught me how to drink. He didn’t hug me…
Now my father would not tell us jokes, for we were amongst the ones who heard them. He would want us to be firm in our decisions. I wouldn’t ever see him helping me with my homework for he didn’t have much education, and once he saw me going on my own two feet he let me do them on my own. He didn’t talk about sex during my teen years for he had done it before that. My dad never said ‘I love you’ or even ‘I’m so proud’ for he knew words weren’t enough, he showed it with a smile, and his co-workers would always tell us how much he did. He never bought me a car, but yet in nearly 30 years since he got married he never got a new car himself, always damaged, always cheap cars was all he could afford. My father perhaps spent too much time with the newspaper, for we spent too much time in front of the tv and playing video games, ignoring him when he would speak. He gave me $2.00 for lunch each day, not enough when the cheapest lunch was $3.00, but he kept only $0.50 in his pockets each day for just two cups of coffee to mitigate his own hunger. He didn’t buy me new clothes or shoes, and I developed no sense of fashion, yet his clothes were much older than mine, and he would never complain. My father would never buy me a drink, for he had been an alcoholic in the past and he didn’t want me to try what had almost destroyed his life and family.
I tried to contain myself, but I couldn’t help it but let the tears trickle down my face. All this time I had not been grateful enough to acknowledge I am what I am because of my father. I don’t mean this in the accusing way immature adolescents point their fingers at their progenitors, stating they are at fault for their children’s mistakes. What I mean is that, despite it all, I am a good man, responsible, warm, caring, a funny individual, goal-oriented, all thanks to the example that my own father had given me.
Our fathers may not have been perfect in a million different ways. Sometimes we just condemn them for ‘doing what they did’, whatever that means. They are just human beings like us. Who are we to judge them when we make mistakes every day, and these are all our very own mistakes. In their place maybe we would have been better, but maybe we would have done worse.
Due to our culture it is hard for us to just look at our father’s eyes in a day other than Father’s Day and say ‘Dad, thank you for all the lessons learned, I love you for that’. Let’s just do it. I’m flying back home today to the arms of my old man and I can’t wait to see him and give him a big hug and a kiss.
Dad, I won’t wait till you pass away to let you know how grateful I am to have had you in my life.
Lesson Learned: ‘Dad, with all your imperfections you’re better than any role model out there. You are my one true hero.’
-Wind Beneath my Wings
Weariness took a hold of us on our way back from New Orleans. It would later take us close to 24 hours to drive all the way back home. We spoke, sang, listened to multiple radiostations, argued and many other minor forgettable things…now, one particular moment would change my life. They played a song some Hispanic songstress dedicated to her deceased father.
The song would bring tears to my eyes…
My father was a serious-minded individual who would joke more with strangers than with us. He was outgoing with others but stern with us. Dad would not sit beside me to help me with my homework. He didn’t talk to me about sex during my teenager years. I don’t remember him saying ‘I love you son’ or ‘I’m so proud of you’. My father never bought me a car. He didn’t talk much, always hiding behind his newspaper, reading himself to sleep after coming in from work. My father just gave me $2.00 each day for lunch. He didn’t buy me nice clothes or shoes. Dad would never buy me a drink, and never taught me how to drink. He didn’t hug me…
Now my father would not tell us jokes, for we were amongst the ones who heard them. He would want us to be firm in our decisions. I wouldn’t ever see him helping me with my homework for he didn’t have much education, and once he saw me going on my own two feet he let me do them on my own. He didn’t talk about sex during my teen years for he had done it before that. My dad never said ‘I love you’ or even ‘I’m so proud’ for he knew words weren’t enough, he showed it with a smile, and his co-workers would always tell us how much he did. He never bought me a car, but yet in nearly 30 years since he got married he never got a new car himself, always damaged, always cheap cars was all he could afford. My father perhaps spent too much time with the newspaper, for we spent too much time in front of the tv and playing video games, ignoring him when he would speak. He gave me $2.00 for lunch each day, not enough when the cheapest lunch was $3.00, but he kept only $0.50 in his pockets each day for just two cups of coffee to mitigate his own hunger. He didn’t buy me new clothes or shoes, and I developed no sense of fashion, yet his clothes were much older than mine, and he would never complain. My father would never buy me a drink, for he had been an alcoholic in the past and he didn’t want me to try what had almost destroyed his life and family.
I tried to contain myself, but I couldn’t help it but let the tears trickle down my face. All this time I had not been grateful enough to acknowledge I am what I am because of my father. I don’t mean this in the accusing way immature adolescents point their fingers at their progenitors, stating they are at fault for their children’s mistakes. What I mean is that, despite it all, I am a good man, responsible, warm, caring, a funny individual, goal-oriented, all thanks to the example that my own father had given me.
Our fathers may not have been perfect in a million different ways. Sometimes we just condemn them for ‘doing what they did’, whatever that means. They are just human beings like us. Who are we to judge them when we make mistakes every day, and these are all our very own mistakes. In their place maybe we would have been better, but maybe we would have done worse.
Due to our culture it is hard for us to just look at our father’s eyes in a day other than Father’s Day and say ‘Dad, thank you for all the lessons learned, I love you for that’. Let’s just do it. I’m flying back home today to the arms of my old man and I can’t wait to see him and give him a big hug and a kiss.
Dad, I won’t wait till you pass away to let you know how grateful I am to have had you in my life.
Lesson Learned: ‘Dad, with all your imperfections you’re better than any role model out there. You are my one true hero.’
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3 comments:
I must admit... I almost cried with this. Perhaps I relate with the writing in some ways.
Hey Moises...that was a great blog, made me open my eyes a little. Though my dad has never been there for me and I haven't talked to him in over a year...makes me wanna go talk to him :)
damn Moises, it makes me cry!!! I think it is the best one!!
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