This Dad Of Mine

Dad,

Now that I'm a grown Man. I see things differently Dad.

You know, even now that I'm fifty two, all I have to do is close my eye's and the whole world disappears and I'm back to the lessons you taught me...

...way, way back yester-yester-year. Time and time again.

Oh, I remember very well. You know Dad? My memory serves me far too well.

The lessons you taught me when we would go to the Spanish Cinema. When you would take me to those movies that were not intended for the boy that was your little son. The Spanish Cinema is where I was molested that time, by that dirty, smelling, cigar smoking old Spanish son-of-a-bitch. Did I ever tell you Dad? Have I ever shared with you that Clay Pigeons or Psycho, directed by Alfred Hitchcock, was not meant for my eye's or mind? I never wanted to see them, I was too young - I just wanted to be with you. So I could be taught. The Clock Work Orange, Dad? I am still affected.

I remember when you would take me to the special beach's. Where we would fit in like a nice pair of gloves. We swam so close together. It was so special. I would think to myself back then.

Then you changed and you became a week end Dad, Dad. I always knew we would have some "time" then, when you would come home. Sometimes you didn't. And then you left me and all of us here in our tiny little house not too far from Down Town. I got work at Church's Fried Chicken, remember Dad? I was in Grade Seven. I worked so we would have extra. I tried to do right.

Then you moved us all and we lived in that one bed room apartment in Hialeah, Florida for a few weeks. Nine of us. I remember. When we lived in Miami things didn't change too much did they Dad? No. Nope. You never stopped teaching me and providing lesson after lesson's, did you Dad?..

...I remember Dad. I do and I know you hear these words I tip-tap.

Thank you, Dad.