Father

My father has always been a quiet, calm, wise, and hardworking guy. He’s been a pizza maker for as long as I can remember, for a company that doesn’t give a shit about him or any of its employees, how do I know this? I work under the same company, but we won’t get into that just yet. Growing up we knew we were seriously in trouble when our dad was mad at us, when he was angry, he let us have it.  Not in a bad way, there is not a time where I thought we didn’t deserve what we got. It helped us develop into well behaved children. We have such high respect and appreciation for my dad that we always try not to disappoint him, although sometimes I feel like that ship sailed a long time ago. He’s the type that keeps to himself a lot, but when it comes down to his love he will poor out his soul to you and make sure you know he loves you and cares. He’s always said that he doesn’t tell us what to do but he gives us advice from his experience and hopes that we listen.

I think between both my parents I came out more like my dad. I got his love for rock in my veins, of course they come in different shapes and sizes but the same beat lives on in my heart. He really likes old Spanish rock and old school English rock. From Hombres G, Mana, and Los Enanitos Verdes to The Beatles and KISS. When my dad’s favorite artist, Joan Sebastian, passed away I remember getting home from work and walking into the living room where he was listening to his music crying. My dad truly admired that man, he owned every single album and heard every single song he wrote. You see there was more than just a musical admiration. When my dad was much younger and still living in the small ranch in Mexico, Joan Sebastian was on the edge of becoming super famous. One day he visited my dad’s ranch went into a small store and had bought three poor boys a soda. One of those three boys being my dad. It might not sound like a lot but for him it was very rare to have the money to buy a soda Joan said a few inspiring words to the three boys, handed them the soda and walked out. Those words stayed with my father, he continued to admire him after. That year when he was to pass away my dad’s birthday was coming up and me and my mom had planned to buy him tickets so that he could see his hero once more. Unfortunately, his hero died and he never got to see him again, it breaks my heart every time I think of those sad teary eyes that hid in the darkness when I got home that night.

Me and my dad share more than just music taste though, I think we both rather stay quiet and not lash out when we’re angry. You see growing up when I was upset I would lock myself in my room and get over it the next day. My mom and brothers would call me childish and would take our arguments and my feelings as a joke. They would just brush it off and say, “she’ll get over it”. But little did they know I was listening to every word they said. I’m not going to sit here and sound like a victim and say they hurt my feelings boohoo, but I will say this. I rather not open my mouth and say something in anger that I’ll regret later, nor will I hold a grudge at someone for days or weeks especially when it’s family. It’s not worth it, why waste my time throwing a tantrum over something someone said. My dad has the same idea, he rather stay quiet and move on then bicker with a stubborn hard-headed person.

We love a lot more than we fight, my dad and I. He’s a hopeless romantic that believes that if my mother should die before him, he will continue to love her even after death and won’t be able to love another. He follows my mom like a lost puppy all the time around the house, writes her poetry, and can’t leave the house without giving her a kiss. I believe that when my significant other passes away I probably won’t be able to move on either, even if it’s just for company, I couldn’t I rather wait patiently alone until I can be with them again after death. When I fall in love, I fall in love hard, which can be a curse when all that is left is heartache. I will give it my all to make you feel happy even if it leads to misery for me.

My dad as calm and quiet as he is he will still on occasion joke around with us and laugh. He would watch wresting back when we used to believe WWE was real, sit there for the night and get excited like us. Those are the good times, the happy times, I wish I could give him more of these days. He stresses out a lot driving through traffic for hours to get to work or home, for a restaurant that can’t even tell him whether its closing or not, what will happen to him if it does. A business that hasn’t given him a raise in years, who tore him down when they fired my brother from that location because of a prick manager. My dad had a whole meeting just because of that, and all they could tell him is that manager has been there for years they couldn’t do anything. My dad would do beyond what he was supposed to, beyond his job description. His title says pizza maker or pizza cook, when in reality he was the company’s personal driver. My father of course didn’t mind it had its perks like they would pay for his cellphone bill. But this would mean that when they needed something they would send him. If the owner asked my dad to help him move things from his personal home or to park his car he would do it. If they told him to drive hours away to deliver some supplies he would do it. If he had to fill in a space for someone outside his home location, if he had to deliver food because they were short of drivers, he would do it. Go around back and forth between the company’s three locations.

When my brother was fired and they told him sorry mate not today, my dad dropped his keys and told them fine that was his last day as they’re personal driver. He told them his job description says pizza cook and that is all he would be. My dad grew a back bone and told them to stick it up their sunshine. They stopped paying for his cellphone bill, they stopped asking for favors, well, on occasion they ask for small favors from managers that aren’t pricks and my dad says sure. But after all his 20 years of working there, this is how the company treated him.

My dad deals with all of this from work and our bullshit at home, the bills pilling on him. If there is someone I wish I could give the world to it’s my dad, he deserves that and so much more. There isn’t a time when I have never appreciated what he has done for me, I just wish he could be happy and stress free. The city is killing him, the constant traffic, the cold rough winters, the way people are here. It’s killing him, you can see it in his weary eyes, in his thin hair with streaks of grey and white. I hope someday I can give my dad as close to the world as I can give him.

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