Letter of October 10, 2009 - Dad

(06/2005 © gelisa)
In this beautiful afternoon of automn, I went to the cemetery where my dad was buried 30 years ago, and all my memories are coming back on this anniversary day.

My friend reader, you did not know him. Dad was a successful businessman and he was also very handsome and good speaker. He had even been approached to work with municipal politics, but he refused. He told us he did not want to join in their "games". His rules for living were well defined, making him a man of integrity, fair and good.

One of the most engaging memories of Dad is his odor when he was comming back from his construction site, the smell of sawdust mixed with the one of putty. He was always wearing a large lead pencil on his right ear. At evening, after dinner, he was retiring in his office with a cup of tea to handle the company accounts and to do some reading. Often I was following him in his world, in this part of the basement, witness of his businessman and inventor life. There, we could not hear the animation of the house, only the sounds of the paper punch, the big calculator and the rustle of fine paper bills. Dad let me play with his calculator and I could not believe that machine could memorise all the addition and multiplication tables. Don't ask me how it works.

Mechanical calculator

When my dad had finished his office work, he was taking a book or the encyclopedia and studied. Everyone said that Dad was a self-taught and it seemed to me it was like quite an honor, they even said about him that he had knowledge of an engineer. I also wanted to be a self taught like him and I loved rummaging through his books when he was not there.

On Sunday, at home, was a sacred day. Early in the morning, Dad was cooking, and he was making a big pot of soup. He was also preparing a roast beef to cook before leaving for church. Mom was dressing us with our best clothes and we were all crammed into the big Pontiac. The Sunday morning Mass was very important but it was so boring, besides, my mom was watching me closely to stand straight and I keep quiet. Dad was always sitting on the edge of the driveway, ready to go out with one of us for a need. Let's say it was also to go talking business with others and to smoke a cigaret on the porch of the church.

After lunch it was the car ride. First of all, Dad was going at the construction site to ensure there had been no vandalism at night. Sometimes he was letting us climb on the first floor. It was quite an adventure for us. There were no walls and large holes in the floors. After visiting the site, he was taking us to a picnic or at the beach or on a vacant lot, probably the site of a new project. I preferred the empty lots. We could always find a small pond of tadpoles, grasshoppers and clumps of daisies. I liked so much to weave wreaths of daisies and my brother to fill jars of tadpoles for fishing.

But all this is now so far. I found us gathered around the grave of dad and none of my brothers speak of his memories. They have not experienced the same man, the one of my memory because they were too young. They only remember of a man embittered by so many disappointments and sentenced by arteriosclerosis, a disease that gradually destroys the tissues and cells of the nervous system, often associated with memory problems and with emotional . Today I have my Dad's age when he passed away and I have not done one tenth of what he has done.

Now I think a lot about him, in my toughts, I cry often for him, of all he could endure, of the incomprehension of his family, and I feel he is close to me, I'm sitting on his lap and I hear he's saying:

-" I told thee that there was nothing after death, but this is not true, I have found peace and I am living in the Hereafter"

-"Dad, this is my dearest wish. Sleep well."

Thank you for following me so far. Go outdoor and see how beautiful it is outside and enjoys the last beautiful autumn days.

Gelisa

This photo was taken in the park near my home. (10/2007 © gelisa)