Category: Sons and Fathers

Know his Heart – Hugo explores his latest Nightmare?

Hugo had a rough night of sleep and on dream stood out among the rest and kept him up the rest of the night. In an unusually brief Pod Hugo asks himself about fatherhood and the relationship with his son.

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The Fastest Torres

Heading east and 37 feet past the dogie water fountain on the Royal Oaks trail a boy ran by a middle aged man. Huffing and puffing the stocky forty-something thought he could and thought he could catch up with the gazelle like kiddo to no avail. 
It could have been the extra 10 pounds, the aching knees, the mid-day heat or the heart palpitations that kept him from matching strides. In any case the baton has officially been passed and a new

His Hands

I was the first person that has loved him to touch his hand. His bright blue eyes would meet light for some time and in this brave new world touch was all he had. With his wrinkly miniature hand he grasped my trembling finger and I felt his hearty grip as he squeezed. Years have passed since then and now his paws are as big as mine. They are thin, smooth and would be flawless if he didn’t chew on his nails. They are in contrast with my sun beat skin, protruding wrinkles and a slight tremble at some fingers. His grip is much stronger now and when we play he’s hurt me and I’ve told him countless times to take it easy on me. I can beat him at a Thumb War but my days are numbered. He talks with his hands like I do and I get a chuckle every time he gets animated and those palms are moving a mile a minute. He reaches out sometimes on a walk and I will never deny him that feeling that I’m there for him.
I could not bear to be without him and not have another chance to feel his hands. That is why the passing of young people hurts so much even when they are not mine.

I Never

I never as a kid…wore my pajamas to school, have a class for just puzzles, taken out of school for In-N-Out hamburgers w/mates, have Subway subs with my teacher at lunch time, have Santa as a super-close friend of the family, walked in a parade with my school, have a DJ play tunes during my lunch hour…had my dad record all his observations for me to read and roll my eyes at years later.

At Drop Off

“Got it” his yelp trailed off as the passenger side door closed shut behind him. I sat there a moment watching him walk away and thinking that my own father would not have let me get away with that flip of a good-bye. 
My parents were different though and each morning at drop off or each night at bedtime we had to tell our parents we loved them whether we felt like it or not. I recall countless times when I kissed my dad on the forehead before going to bed while seething inside about his latest trespass I had perceived. I recoiled when my mother demanded that I give her a good-bye hug the morning after she had told me she wasn’t going to pay for brand name sneakers. I didn’t care for those moments. Now here I was, limp in my seat questioning whether I should demand the “I love you too” I feel I have earned. The light honk behind snapped me out my pity party and I drove away from the Middle School. 
A cup of freshly brewed coffee waited for me at home…it would certainly perk my spirits.

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.

Digital Parent

While sitting here at the Real Estate office this morning I found myself going about the usual routine. I had my coffee by my side, the Monrovia Weekly had been read, I had already traded pleasantries with the agents in the office and the computer was on so I could get to work. As usual I started with email and I found that most was inconsequential…then one caught my eye. It’s uniqueness was glaring. My son had emailed me and now I was staring at this note on the screen where he asked for some homework help. I’m transfixed by the account-avatar he chose (his current favorite animal) and how much punch his one sentence digital note is making on my analog heart. 
He’s starting to live in a brave new world. I better be a good guide!

Hugging it Out

At drop off today the kids as usual moseyed off to class without even giving a good bye or look back. That’s typical. As I started to plug in my phone’s headset so I could listen to the latest biography a scene reached my eye. A husky big man was embracing a boy with all his might. They swayed as they hugged and even from my far off spot I could tell this exchange meant a whole lot to the two. Eventually they had to peel away from one another and the boy (who could not have been older than 10) heading into campus. 
The big guy in his gray pants and crimson sweater waited and watched his boy get lost in the throng of kids. Funny that he didn’t look like the “hugging” type when I had a change to give him my full estimate. 
My assessment matters not…he got his love for the day and I ached a little for not getting mine.