I'm sure my daddy was not perfect and that he had his flaws but the memories I have of him in my head makes it really hard to see him as a bad guy. I remember him being loving, caring, and full of life. His eyes. His nose. His smile. His tall and slim figure. His semi bold head. But mainly his eyes. I remember nothing but good things in his eyes. If only I can look into his eyes one more time.
But I do. Almost daily. You see, I have his eyes. Almond shape, dark brown, kinda deep in between the nose. That's my favorite feature, is the best gift he could have ever given me, to see him within me every time I look in a mirror. The resemblance is almost scary yet breathtaking at the same time because deep down I feel and believe that he's still with me. Call me crazy but that's how I keep sane. Sometimes I sit in my car staring at myself in the mirror having a one way conversation with my dad. Ok so there's nothing sane about that but you know what I mean, right? :)
How does one even become a daddy's or mama's girl? Is it a mental thing? Where you have more memories of one parent making you feel like you love that parent more than the other but you will never admit to it? Or is it because you feel more loved from one parent over the other?
I honestly don't know how that happens but in my case I can relate to both scenarios. My mom doesn't show love easily, she's not affectionate at all from what I remember and even now but my dad, my dad was all about hugs and kisses, he would get excited simply by walking thru the door after work. Geezz, he wouldn't even wait to get near the door. He would whistle, a distinct whistle that he had that sounded a bit like "fuiufui" hahahaha (go ahead and laugh), from around the corner and a block up the street to announce his nearing to the house and with my mom's permission we would run out the door and race to him. I remember many times we would all run to him (I don't know how my sister made it to him being that she was under one. I assume my mother would go with us to greet him) and he would put my brother on his back, hold my sister on his side, and I would hang from one leg and he would have to make it home with us in that position hahaha.
I don't recall my dad ever being mad or angry with us. He was always happy. And anyone who ever knew him have only ever said good things about him. They even call him a hero, my daddy was a Hero! He saved a girl from drowning during a hurricane in DR months before he died. Again, I'm sure he had his flaws but I don't have any memories of them and I want to keep it that way. I don't want to know anything that will taint the image I have of him, especially because he's not around to defend himself.
More things I remember about my daddy is that he was a welder. His dad had his own welding business in DR and his sons worked with him. Some days my dad would pick me up from school and we would walk to his place of work. There he would entrust me to his brother's girlfriend or the wife of the owner of the colmado and I would hang around snacking on food till it was time to go home.
He was well known and well liked. People would always come out to meet "la hija de Andrés/Andrés's daughter". Even today at my age when I'm being introduced to a friend of the family I get referred to as "la hija de Andrés". I don't know what it was about my dad but when people talk about him they make him sound like a great man.
His life on earth was cut short. He was only 38 years old when he passed away but he must have redeemed himself pretty well after his time in prison and I will not hold my tongue on saying that I am proud to be call his daughter. I am proud to have had him as my father. And I am proud to carry his last name.