A great dad

I can remember a time when someone on my school bus was going off on Hispanic dads.

Can’t remember the specifics, I can only remember being so shocked at this narrative.

That they’re unavailable or absent all together.

I told this person they were wrong, so wrong.

Being a shy pre teen, I didn’t think to back this up even though this person fought me on it.

I think I said, “not my dad!” And that was that.

On the eve of my dad’s birthday, this memory comes back with a story I wish I had articulated but maybe didn’t have the context yet.

A few years ago, my dad was diagnosed with lyposarcoma. A large non metatastic tumer in his abdomen which had to come out.

In his stomach.

I remembered a time when we vacationed in Florida.

I was sick the whole time. My nose would not stop bleeding.

One day, when I was better but not 100%, we were outside and a sudden thunderstorm broke out.

I feared wind like it was certain death.

I instinctively buried my face in my father’s stomach and he wrapped his arms around me.

Despite the booming thunder and lightning, I felt safer than I’d ever felt before.

Because my dad had me secured.

I thought about this when he was being wheeled away on a stretcher into surgery which would take hours.

I wanted to bury my face in his stomach.

I did metaphorically. And I felt safe.

This is a testament to him and what he’s given me.

A sense of personal and emotional safety.

That’s everything anyone can ask of a dad.

And I love him more than these words can say.

Published by Cindy

For money, I’m what you call a banquet captain. That means I’m in charge of timing and staff at special events, weddings, benefits, movie premiere parties...ect. I’m also a filmmaker and freelance writer. I’m owned by two cats, Samantha and Harrison Chase who reluctantly allow me to travel, something I’m made to do.

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