My father

I will write about dad. He's important to me and probably means very little to you. So, to avoid being bored, pretend I am writing about your dad as well. This is a letter about fathers. Mine and yours. As you read it, feel free to keep similarities while tossing disparities.

I am lucky to have a father. And if your old man is no longer around, you know about this a lot more than I do. I can, somehow, fantasize about what's like to lose him for good, but I can't know for sure. So, my honest respect for those of you who've experienced such loss.

My dad is a beautiful man. From his looks I got nothing but the pointy nose and some franciscan baldness. He saved for himself the blondish hair, oceanic blue eyes, a full golden beard and the ability to play the guitar by ear while singing in fine tune.

He didn't pass me along any mood related genes either. I've never seen him mad, screaming at my mom and siblings or emotionally unstable. He never cursed in front of me. Never fought in traffic. I am not even sure he knows how to use the car horn.

I also never saw him drunk. Probably because he quit drinking when I was around seven. Rumor has it in the glorious days of his youth my grandma had to cover his room with newspaper, "Dexter" style, just so he could return from his nights out and throw up like a bad remake of "The Exorcist".

He never lied to me. If he did, he was pretty darn good since I still haven't find out about it. The closest thing to lying he did was asking me to hold his cane during a fishing trip. The fish was already on the hook and he wanted me to think I was the one who caught it. I am still disappointed on that one - although his motives were all good.

He never taught me how to make money, but with him I learned to do everything in my power to never, ever go into debit.

He showed me, more than once, how to tie a tie in different styles. Didn't work. I still need Youtube on that one.

In many aspects, I am very different from my father. His only hero is Jesus. I start with Darwin and go on with a long list of antichrists. He loves God above all things. I regard the Lord as one of the worst things humanity has ever invented.

Dad and I are two worlds apart. He's got the looks and his assuring faith. I've got nothing but my everlasting ignorance and his pointy nose. Yet, he is my dad. He turns 63 today. And I love him like I never loved anyone.

 © Rodrigo Bressane

 © Rodrigo Bressane

Rodrigo Bressane