Happy Father’s Day Baba


24248_10150113313155438_5190052_nHi Baba!

It’s father’s day weekend. And this is always a hard occasion for me, but so most of the holidays without you; can you believe it’s been three years?

Three incredibly fast years?

Three incredible growing years?

Three incredible lonely years?

Father’s Day has made me grumpy. A little sad, too. I get super emotional and end up crying and running to smell the shirt that I stole from mama’s closet, and now hidden in mine. It still kind of smells like you, too, which is why I try not to touch it too much. As long as it has your smell, you’ll be that much closer when I need your protection.

It’s funny how when you were alive, I’d call you and it didn’t seem like a big deal, but now that you’re not here, it is a big deal. It’s a reminder that I lost you sooner that I’d like. I know it wasn’t my call to keep you here, but it would be nice if I could give you a hug, or call your phone and hear you pick up.

You know, sometimes I can hear you cough, or say my name in that strong authoritative voice you had. Speaking of which, when they turned off your phone, I recorded the last voice mail message you left me onto my old computer so that I would always have that to listen to when I need that strength.

I know you’re here. In the light and the air around me. In the bird that visited my window that week of my birthday and the week after. In my thoughts and in my heart.  Yet, it isn’t the same. And it makes me sad for all of those who don’t know their father, or like me, don’t have a father to call and celebrate with on birthdays, holidays, and other celebratory events.

It’s amazing how much you pop into my mind, actually. Just a couple of weeks ago, I remember you teaching me how to make coffee when mama was in the states to give birth to Hashem.

My favorite memory though, is from when you and I went to that English teaching school in Alhambra, I thought it was super cool that we were in the same class, we went home, and ended up doing our homework over the weekend together, it’s my favorite and saddest memory at the same time.

When you passed away, I told a friend, that I had lost the only man who would ever love me unconditionally and it’s true. I did. I may have gained strength and an important lesson in life, but I still lost one of the most important love relationships of my life. I don’t mean that as sleezy as some people may think, I just know that not every love lasts forever. The strongest loves are the love we receive from our parents. So while I do carry a piece of you with me, that love I know you had and that protected me and will never be reciprocated.

Sometimes that’s the only love I want, the kind that feels protective and can’t be reciprocated. While I try to give it to myself, it just isn’t the same.

I’m rambling now and I’m crying so much that I can’t quite see the screen anymore, but I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for being the best father you could be and thank you for being there even now, at a distance. I know you’re here, even when it doesn’t feel like it.

Happy Father’s Day.

I love you,


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