Daddy

My father was 45 when I was born. Growing up, I didn't quite understand what it meant to have an older father. In my eyes, he was handsome like Omar Sharif, everyone knew him by his first name, and when he spoke to me, his words were always as gentle and comforting as honey and cream. He played with me and taught me long division..something I just could not master as a 4th grader. We went on long walks; holding my hand, always. Walking on the sidewalk, towards Angelo's Cafe on Court Street, he would walk by the curb-side. "If a car loses control, it will hit me, not you." When we went shopping for Feta cheese and some Kalamata black olives, on Atlantic Avenue, his friend who owned the Syrian grocery store would always give me a bar of Joyva halvah. "This is for you. Always say 'thank you' when you are given a gift; no matter its value or size." I was crying when my grandmother passed. He called me outside to his rose garden and pointed to a rose which had, possibly, 2 petals left. "This rose started as a bud. Take a look around. It grew into an American Beauty. We had the joy of watching it bloom and grow. But like every creature of God, there comes a time, when petals begin to fall, and it is no more. Your yiayia's time had come." My parents became friends with my in-laws. I was happy about that. "Mom and I KNOW you love us; no need for presents and cards! You must make every effort to show love to your in-laws. They are the reason you are so happy today. They are your husband's parents. Treat them with respect and show, whenever possible, that you love them." My favorite color was/is purple. I had given birth to my first child, and my dad came to see me at the hospital with a bouquet of purple flowers! One iris, one zinnia, one dalhia and a cluster of lavender! I loved my gift and was curious how he was able to find such an array. "I went to Vanderbilt Florist..Mr. Carras is my friend. (pausing) When you know someone well, you will know exactly what they would like." When my dad passed away, I was ready. I knew he would not want me crying..that would only sadden him. My dad retired at 65 yrs. old, and 2 years later, he passed. I believe he was ready. He never regretted any choices he had made in life; they were all lessons for him. My mom didn't want the doctors to tell him that his time had come..but I believe he knew. "I don't want anything traumatic to occur, something that may take you by surprise.. your sister and mom. But if it should..know that I am fine..just in another place. You DO understand, right?" Of course, I understood. He was a smart man and he knew his earthly journey was ending. It would be continuing elsewhere. My father was an orphan, a soldier, an immigrant, a dishwasher, a sexton and school custodian. In his life he received no medals or trophies. The parochial school which he kept spotless and safe, dedicated their yearbook to him, the year he passed. Children loved him, teachers loved him, his friends loved him, his co-workers loved him, his family loved him. When he left, he took nothing with him, but the suit he was buried in. Some may have called him a poor man, because they were not able to SEE his true treasures. "Do unto others, as you would have others do unto you." This was my father. I love you, forever. Happy Father's Day, daddy!!!! Peace.