I remember when I was little I would get horrible motion sickness when I travelled by bus to see my grandmother in Quillota. In those moments as an eight-year-old, thinking that motion sickness was the most dreadful feeling in the world, my dad was by my side. My best memories involve my dad taking me with him on his daily adventures, which now seem like regular errands or chores but as a young girl I viewed them as brave acts of spontaneity and adventure. My dad and I would take off to a day filled with questionable street food, feeding stray dogs and travelling by bus for an hour or so to go eat at my grandmother’s house. We loved going to Quillota together, I having an old soul as a little girl did not mind spending a whole afternoon listening to my grandmother or reading the newspaper or talking to my uncle Peruco.
At times, when I’m having a stressful day, week, hour, or what have you I think of my dad. He brings complete serenity to my life. As years went by, I always went to him for words of wisdom or just to talk. He always encouraged my dreams and creativity and never questioned me as a growing individual.
As a teenager he transitioned from being there for me past motion sickness and into heartbreak. He was always the voice of reason behind decisions I would act on and because of him I do not regret, I learn.
I’ve seen my dad weep, laugh, struggle and enjoy his life and I thank God every second that he is still in my life. I have not seen his sweet face or held his wrinkly hands in over two years but I sure take advantage of technology and get to hear his sweet voice over the phone every week and as much as I can. Anytime my day feels dull or when I feel things are slipping off my hands, I give him a quick call. All he has to say is:
“Hola mi coquito” and once he says that I exhale and feel okay.
So this post is in his honor, for being the rock to my very fragile yet willing heart. He is amazing and he is my dad.
Happy Birthday mi papucho, te amo! Here’s to rocking on for the past 64 years!