A Father’s Day Tribute to my Dad
Reflecting on my cold childhood days, I can recall nothing but a lifetime of torturing solitude and disturbing silent reveries. I can recall a childhood of downright obscurity about life and what life should be like. On some days, I’d sit outside after feeding on my mother’s delicious spaghetti and fry pan stew, thinking about what life would be like for me if you were alive.
I’d sit alone in my room facing my mirror at night with the capturing reflection of full bright florescent lights, talking to myself in the mirror as though I were talking to an actual human.
Yes, I did that a lot of times. I wasn’t crazy, not even remotely. I only did that because deep down inside me, I believed I was a vivid reflection of you; and I felt that was the only way to have a furtive emotionally loaded conversation with you.
I remember the hot September afternoon we spent together in Orange County before you passed away, probably the hottest September afternoon on record. A trip to Newport Beach was a tradition for us when you were alive. We’d travel from Connecticut to California every September just to have the deja-vu experience you and my mother looked forward to every year. It was your perfect idea of a romantic get-away because the beach reminded you of how you both met, so you took the trip up as a tradition to celebrate your hot romance.
Okay, enough of that already. I’m writing this to celebrate an icon that delighted in my happiness all his life. I’m writing this to honor my mentor, my cornerstone, my strength, the one who gave half of his DNA so I can be born, and of course my father. It saddens my heart that we didn’t get to spend summer in Hawaii to celebrate my tenth year birthday as we planned. It saddens my heart that I lost you to cancer. It saddens my heart that I’m spending yet another Father’s Day without you.
Father, I know you are not alive and can’t possibly read this, but I’m writing this anyway. I have a gift for you. Remember when I promised you I’d graduate finish high school topping my class and the whole school? Well, I made that happen for you, and I got a big trophy for it, the likes of which I’ve never seen, at least not in the collective days of my sixteen years on earth.
I do not deserve this trophy, you do. And that’s why I’m dedicating it to you. Had you not penned down the novelization of your high school exploits, I don’t think I would have been inspired to work really hard to achieve what I just made. Although, you didn’t stay alive to show me the manuscript but mom did. Perhaps, you thought I was too young to read it. Well, I actually was; I was only seven, I don’t think I would have comprehended any of it.
Your manuscript has been my companion since the first time I read it, and I really love the fact that you didn’t publish it because I can’t imagine sharing this treasure with the world. I believe you wrote it for me and just me alone, and it’s what got me here. I wish to thank you for everything. I want to thank you for modeling life for me through your manuscript, something I believe you never thought would be remotely inspiring.
You have taught me a great lesson through that. I have learned that what we do matters and how we do what we do really matters as well. You are indeed a blessing to humanity. I dedicate the Delightful Work for you. I love you, dad!