Category: Lessons from my Father

My dad never

My dad never taught me how to fish but he showed me that grown men do cry. My dad couldn’t instruct me on how to drive but he drove me to the driving school. My father didn’t teach me English but I learned from him that words on paper can be powerful. My father didn’t have a lot of time for me after work but I saw in him the ability to will himself into performing one more shift. My old man was too tired for basketball but he made enough so I’d have shoes and a ball. 
There are so many things Silvio didn’t, couldn’t, was unable to do when it came to me and I resented some of those at the time. Now near 40 and with kids of my own I’ve come to see the flip side of those things.

Battle of the Bulge

I’ve gotten soft about the belly. I work out, I try to eat right, I most certainly attempt to lay off the wine but this hasn’t made much a difference to my waist line. I realize this most when I make the effort to fit into my old fitted shirts and the buttons struggle to maintain their position in the outlined slots. Therefore, like my father before me, I will transfer some of my older clothes post haste to my son’s closet. 
My only hope is that my fashions will still be in fashion when he’s ready to look dapper in them.

Buyers Remorse

It would take my father a good long while to bring it up. I could see the strain and just before he did it his shoulders would tense, the vein at his forehead engorged and he pumped his fists to gather up muster. Sometimes he was sweet and gentle. Sometimes demanding and callous. Most of the time he was wily in his pleads and he was certainly not always successful. 
That’s what it took sometimes for my mom to open up the purse strings if the purchase was over $100. I suppose that’s why I always think twice and compare to Casa Torres’ CFO before splurging on the latest tech.

Gunk

Some time ago I took the tip of a pen and over several minutes removed all this “gunk” that had collected into the grooves of my dad’s heavy police ring with the blue stone a top. After I cleaned it I took it over to my papa and showed off my proud work. 
I thought he’d be happy. 
He groaned heavily when he saw it but instead of admonishing me he took the time to tell me that the stuff I had removed was there to highlight the patters in the gold plus the jewel. That a patina and all the little nicks and scratches on the pieces was something to be proud off because it meant you and your ring had seen some adventure. He then put away the ring and since then I watched it from afar. 
Then one day I got one of my own and while I put it on this morning I noticed many several imperfections on it and then on me.