Loving Memory

I’m the third of six children in my family, and even though it’s not a mandatory obligation in a sense, I always felt like I had to watch out for the rest of my siblings. I also felt like I had to be the protector of the family as a whole. Anybody saying anything or trying to tarnish our family name would have to get through me to do so. So a sense of power over situations involving my family is what I always seeked to make sure that all of us would be safe from any harm. When I found out about my dad’s illness though, I quickly realized that I was powerless, and there wasn’t going to be anything I could do to stop it, I simply had to let God handle it. As always, let God alone protect my family, if He didn’t need me as an instrument to do so. Finding out about the illness was heart wrenching, but I had faith that all would work out, and even though I stand here with a heavy heart that God had other plans, I can somewhat rest easy, despite the obvious pain. A part of me will always be missing now without my dad around. Always fearing this day or any day that I’d lose a family member has been a thought in my mind in recent years, especially with the passing of some of my relatives over the last few years. It’s never easy, it will never be, no matter how many years will pass by from this point, I’ll never have that place in my heart refilled, the place my dad held. Memories fill my mind, some that I’ve shared with others in the past, and some that I’ll hold dear to myself. All the people who knew my dad knew that he was kind to all those he came across. He had his temper, as we all do at times, but it wasn’t who defined him. He was somebody who cared for us so much, even if it didn’t seem obvious at times, I always knew he cared a lot about us. He always told me he’d get upset if he couldn’t for whatever reason give us what we needed. We should all be like that, we should all realize that with life sometimes, that just because somebody can’t give us what we seek, we can’t dismiss it as if they aren’t willing or trying to do so.

I’ll always remember the days we spent talking about baseball, watching wrestling, and just talking about life and the world around us. He loved the Yankees, no matter how many times he’d tell me he was done with them after they’d lose a few games in a row, I knew he wasn’t done with them, and sure enough, the next day, he’d be watching them. When they’d lose, he’d question why or how they could lose. I’d tell him that every team loses, so they were bound to lose too. His response though was that they shouldn’t lose, when I asked why not, he said, “Because they’re the Yankees.” A very simple view to them, something that I have in me to things in life that I clearly got from him. We enjoyed watching the Yankees play my favorite team, the Houston Astros, because it wasn’t something that happened all too much until a few years ago. I remember watching a game with him where the Astros took a 1-0 lead on a Home Run on the very first pitch of the game and I thought, oh boy, we are going get things started early and often. My dad said it was not a good start, but he knew the Yankees would win, after all, they were the Yankees. Unfortunately for me, it was the only run the Astros would score and the Yankees won 2-1. It was still fun though, because we enjoyed the back and forth when they played. He knew how much I loved the Astros, even when they lost in the 2005 World Series and I wasn’t in the mood, he apologized to me, as if he had anything to do with what happened, because he didn’t like seeing me upset; another trait I got from him. He told me that they were still good and that maybe next year they’d win.

I’ll never get to talk baseball anymore with him, never laugh, and never see him again in any place other than my mind and pictures until the day we meet again in heaven, but the love for him and from him wll always be in my heart.

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