Dad
Summer time and July always remind me of my Dad.
When I was about 6 or 7 years old, I remember my dad walking up to the house, his lunch pal in his hand and his keys hanging on his hip. I remember how tired he looked approaching us, but the second he locked eyes with us, he would grin. He used to put his lunchbox on the porch and he'd juggle the soccer ball with us for a bit, then he'd go inside say hello to the others and our mom. He wouldn't stay inside long, he was always an outdoors kinda guy.
I remember every night before bedtime we'd run out of the shower and jump in his lap. I have always been very vocal and too loud for my own good, so I'd start yelling from the end of the hall. He'd hear and he'd sit up and say, "let me smell!" When we'd pounce in his lap, he'd smell our hair. We used this strawberry shampoo and we'd always beg him to smell our hair. It was something we thought was hilarious and we always looked forward to it.
I could paint a perfect picture of my dad, but it's not 100% true. My dad was human, made lots of mistakes, some that were unforgivable and some that made for great jokes, but nonetheless he was my dad. In my eyes he is without a doubt the strongest and most hardworking man I've ever met.
3 things about My Dad:
Strong
When someone measures strength they tend to think about weights and rep type information.
Sure, my dad was physically strong, but more importantly he was emotionally strong and financially strong.
My dad started his American dream by working towards gaining citizenship. He faced trial after trail through the process and never gave up. He worked whatever job was available and always provided for our family. He never received any government support, never wanted it and he never missed a day of work. He believed in hard work and believed in living within our means.
He never had a credit card, never had a car note and owned his home within 5 years of purchasing it.
My dad never made over minimum wage and raised 8 kiddos and my mom was a stay at home mom.
He is hands down the reason why I love finances so much and the reason why I think I love to work. Yes, I love to work, you read that right.
Classy
My dad never dressed with the trends, he wore what he wanted to wear and was totally cool with it. He was his own man. When he entered a room you could tell he was confident. I remember when I was interviewing for my very first job, he told me, "Meche, walk in like you have the job." I laughed because I thought it was silly advice, but he was right. Walk in with confidence and it'll show. He was the type of guy who stood when a woman entered the room and he was the guy who never let a woman pay, always opened the door for a woman and always carried the heavy bags.
Proud
He was absolutely proud of all of us.
He pushed us so hard at everything we did, but he really promoted and pushed for higher education. He drilled educational goals in our heads and made sure we understood college was not an option. I remember walking into his janitor's office one day, maybe about 6 months before he passed and seeing his wall. It was more of a shrine. His small wall, the small closet where he sat each day on his breaks, this is where he would clip every newspaper article about us. I saw the article about my sister receiving honors, the article about me on the homecoming court, how about the one where Fran was in ROTC. All of the articles were lined and taped on the wall. I never knew the wall existed and when I saw it, he laughed and said, "I love seeing you guys in the paper. I love to talk about your accomplishments and goals."
My dad lived through his kids.
The opportunities he had were slim, but he did the best with what he was given.
He was never ungrateful and forever humble.
I'll never forget the day I told him I was moving to Tennessee. I was terrified, I sat on his front porch and waited for him to get home.
I remember seeing his car pull in the driveway and him with a puzzled look on his face.
When he opened the door he said, "Meche, it's hot out here, why aren't you inside?"
I laughed, because it was an August day and he's right, it was about 105 outside.
I stopped him before we entered the house and I told him I wanted to move.
My voice trembled because I was scared about his reaction.
Would he hate me for moving so far, would he be mad, what if he got sick?
He looked at me, those hazel eyes and said, "Will you go to college there?"
I laughed and said, "Of course."
He told me he liked Cody and that he wanted me to be careful.
I remember the silence that followed and his nose sniffle and him pretending it was the weather that caused it.
I remember crying and hugging him, telling him that I would visit.
A few months passed and I remember jogging in my room to answer my phone.
It was my sister and she said I needed to come to Oklahoma as quick as possible.
I was scared for a lot of reasons, but mainly because I had never driven on the interstate by myself.
I remember making the drive, watching the sun go down, getting calls every 2 hours to see where I was.
I remember arriving in Norman and making the last leg of the drive with my two siblings and my brother in law.
I remember the horrible storm that was coming, seeing lighting in the distance and falling asleep on the 3 hour drive.
I remember waking up to my brother's loud ring tone and hearing him briefly talk on the phone, saying, "but we're 10 miles away, I can see the Altus sign."
I remember him hanging up and telling us the bad news.
I remember walking in and seeing him there, no longer alive, his spirit in Heaven.
He was handsome, he was and will forever be my dad.
