MY FATHERS LOVE
Unlike most of my friends I had to be home by six o’clock for dinner every night. We would dreadfully have to sit together and talk to my parents and three other siblings about our day. Unlike most of my friends I had rules. Rules of where I could go , who I could hang out with, and what I was allowed to wear. Unlike most of my friends life for me as I knew it was unfair. It took many rebellious and angry years of misunderstanding why my strict dad made my life so unfair. These days I wish I could come home to a free home cooked meal every night and spend time with my family. I now realize why its unsafe to roam the dark streets behind the bowling alley in stripper like clothing with older kids who smoke pot. Now I finally realize that it was really my friends whose lives weren’t fair. I realize that their dads didn’t have a love like my fathers love. As rebellious as I was and angry about the many world ending groundings, I never doubted once how much my dad loved me. My fathers love was disciplining, persistent, and priceless.
As I mentioned earlier my dad strongly believed in the disciplining department in parenting. Ever since I turned thirteen my life long dream was to turn twenty one. Well, dreaming wasn’t enough for me so I started drinking, smoking, and dating older guys.
One specific memory I have was on Valentines day my eighth grade year. My boyfriend was waiting for me at my friend Heathers house down the street. That was the hang out, because her mom was never home and we could do anything that we wanted. All dressed up looking almost twenty one I slid open the sliding glass door to the shaded backyard where my dad spent most of this time writing his book. With a pleading smile I asked if I could go the Heathers house. I was sent upstairs to wash as he called it, the paint off my face. Afterwards I came back down to ask again and somehow all the eye makeup didn’t seem to get completely removed, and lets just say I didn’t see my boyfriend that Valentines day.
My fathers love was not only disciplining but very persistent. Ever since I could remember my dad would come home peek in my room to see if I were sleeping. Either way when I heard him coming I would quickly close my eyes and pretend I was. He would come by my bedside to say a prayer that I so desperately needed, kiss my forehead, and close the door.
Another time my dad showed his persistence was at fifteen when my parents decided to get a divorce. At that selfish time of my life I remember thinking I would get away with more and maybe even get spoiled like my other friends. Us kids took turns visiting him in his many different places of living but he still made it to my moms house a few times a week to cook the family a big dinner just as he always had. Even when my mom got a new boyfriend my persistent dad invited him too.
Soon after my parents divorced my dad started to get sick. His sickness led him to the care of a nursing home close to my moms house. A striking memory of his persistence was when he prepared us a gourmet feast from the grill of the nursing home. Around a white plastic table in the courtyard my brother and I ate steamed crab legs, angel hair pasta, and of course fresh loaf of bread from the Publix bakery. That was actually the last meal that my dad cooked for us. He was so persistent that not just divorce but even sickness didn’t stop him from showing us his love; which at those times were through his cooking.
Growing up my fathers love as I remember was very disciplining and very persistent, but now its priceless. I realize that true love doesn’t have a price tag on it. Its not about selfishness, its about giving all you have. Before my dad got sick he sent me a package of clothing. At the time that was the way to my heart. He also bought me this one particular striped sweater made out of wool from a high end store in upper class Winter Park. I loved that sweater so much and that’s what I once thought love was.
The last gift my dad gave me was priceless. It was true love. Today I hold it dear to me, closer by my heart than any fancy sweater. Bed sick with a disease he made it to my seventeenth birthday party. That year for my birthday my present was a poem that he wrote for me which he read aloud. It was a humorous poem about me and expressed the type of relationship we had. That birthday I didn’t know how valuable that poem would mean to me someday. But when I read it, it reminds me of my fathers love. Its priceless!
Later that year my dad was escorted by helicopter to a specialized hospital in Tampa. His life on earth started to take him quickly. One of my last visits to the Tampa hospital to see my paralyzed machine operated dad; he signaled the nurse not to let me come back to see him. It was hard to accept but I told the nurse to tell him that I loved him. The last time my dad told me that he loved me was with two eye blinks which meant yes when the nurse asked If he wanted to say I love you too.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
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1 comment:
What a beautiful letter. It sounds like your Dad was extra-special. What a blessing to have such a wonderful father, and he was so blessed to have such loving daughters.
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