Friday, June 18, 2010
A LETTER TO MY DAD
As father's day approaches, it is inevitable to hurt. To hurt more than I've ever hurt before. I miss you so much. This is my first father's day without you and I feel like I can't even breath.
I know you knew how much we loved you. I know you died proud of your children. But sometimes I wonder if we ever thanked you enough. When we came from Cuba you left everyone - EVERYONE you loved to get us out of there. How much did you suffer papi? How horrible it must have been for you to have lost your father without ever being able to see him again. I can not even imagine that kind of pain.
When we came to this country you were only 31 years old. With 3 small children, without knowing the language and without any hope of turning back. Were you scared? How many nights did you stay up wondering what would happen to us? A few days after arriving you were delivering milk in the early morning hours, working in a gas station all day and then washing dishes in a restaurant at night. And you were only 31 years old. The very first thing you purchased in this country was a black and white TV for my brothers and I. Nothing for you - it was never for you. It was always about us.
You worked three jobs so that I could dance ballet... so that my brothers and I could spend a Sunday at a zoo or at a park. So that we would not be stuck in a country that would oppress and enslave us. You worked like an animal your entire life and never once complained. I remember when I was in my late twenties, I went to see you at work and you were working under the hood of a car; bathed in sweat and grease... and I remember thinking... "have I told you how much I appreciate you"?
We moved to Puerto Rico and you made sure that we went to the best private schools, that we joined a social club to meet good friends, that we always dressed like the others in the club even though they had so much more money than we did! You didn't want us to feel less. We never stopped to thank you for that.
You made sure my brother had a good car when he turned 16. Much better than you ever had. You made sure my first car was a brand new car - even though you never in your entire life drove a new car.
I miss you papi, i told you before you died and I will tell you again and again... nobody will ever love me like you did. Nobody will ever love my brothers and I as passionately and as unconditionally as you did. I know I should be celebrating the fact that you were my father - that I was so lucky to have you. But right now all I want to is crawl under my blankets and cry for the man who I'll never be able to kiss again.
Happy father's day papi.
Posted by Elena at 10:21 PM