Remembering my father

It is not common for me to talk about my father, he left to another plane 7 years ago, I think he lived the best he could and when he left, his suffering was brief, although it sounds unromantic, I think that is important.

My parents got married when they were 19 years old, they were colleagues in their work and because of their marriage, my mother had to resign, because they did not accept partners.

It was still something she would have done later, because being a mother, she had no intention of leaving her children in the care of others, so she was always with us, with that great and little valued title of "housewife".

So my father had the role of being the provider of the home, now that I am a mother and together with my husband, we must try to give our children what they need, I understand how important that role is.

He was a very hardworking man, I think that was his main virtue, when he married my mother he was a radio operator, but then he became a policeman, a position he held for 11 years.

Being the policeman's daughter had its advantages, because everyone was afraid of him. But on the other hand he was absorbed in his work and absent, whether he was at home or not.

From that time, when I was an elementary school girl, I remember that he was the one who explained mathematics to me, who lined my notebooks (they were very nice) and who took me to school on his police motorcycle.

He was very fond of drinking and that scared me. When he came home drunk I would hide under the bed, because I didn't like to see him like that. Thank God, years later my mother gave him an ultimatum and he didn't do it anymore.

Then he stopped being a policeman and became a mechanic, for many years he held management positions in large workshops, but then he decided to have his own workshop, where he worked and taught my brothers mechanics.

Being a mechanic he was in a better mood, I remember he liked to cook from time to time, mostly sirloin steak with rice and fried plantain, he also made soup every Saturday.

I learned the little I know about baseball, because I watched the games with him, he also loved action movies and I enjoyed them with him. He would get very excited and laugh while watching his favorite shows on TV and I would take advantage of being there sharing with him his tastes. I don't know why, this memory touched me.

When we were adults, he and my mom still didn't understand each other and it was we ourselves, his children, who supported and paid for his divorce. It was a relief.

My father even got another partner and went to live with her. For us it was not relevant, he was already a free man and could do what he wanted.

We lost contact with him for a while, until he got sick and, as life would have it, he had to go back to live with my mother, because of humanity.

He had a heart disease that put a limit to his days, he didn't seem to know it, but my sister always accompanied him to his appointments and the doctor told her. For his part, he lived quietly and what worried him most was to work to be able to have money, we, his children, gave him a monthly allowance, but it was not really that much, it was like a minimum wage, maybe a little more.

He couldn't work the mechanics, because he couldn't do strength, that would kill him on the spot, so he looked for a job as a watchman in a building. Soon after, his life was snuffed out, I don't think he ever got his first paycheck there.

During the time he lived in the same place as my mother, which was an annex in my brother's house, we were able to share with him in the family reunions that my brother had almost every weekend. We all had a cordial relationship with him, and my sister was the one who spoiled him the most and who was most hurt by his departure.

For me it was also something very hard, because I always had an armor before him, I even had to go to therapy, because I felt that I could have been a better daughter.

Then I understood that we come to this world to live our processes and that when we leave we go to a better place. We all have a time limit here and it is something we have to learn to accept.

After a short time I felt at peace, with the conviction that he is happy and I remember those moments when he was happy.

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