I miss you daddy…

To say that today is a tough day is an understatement. It is one of those days when my heart aches a whole lot more. It is one of those days when I miss him more. It is one of those days that kinda suck… Today we would have celebrated my dad’s 65th birthday but sadly for me I lost him over 29 years ago. That is almost my entire life. That is about 92% of my life without him… that sucks!

I have a hard time describing my emotions for him over time. I have lived most of my life missing him… I don’t know what that “daddy’s little girl” feeling is or what is like to be so overly protected by dad that no man is ever good enough for daddy’s princess. All I have is the stories my mom has shared over the years, and that is not enough. It paints a picture on my mind about him, but it leaves me with many unanswered questions. What if he was here? How would life be with his presence? And so many more “what if’s?” I imagine what it would feel to hug him… to give him a kiss… to see him carrying my babies… to dance with him…

When I was 14-years-old I remember having a conversation with my mom about not wanting a Quinceañera party. I was so strongly against having one. For starters, I didn’t want my mom to have to pay the price tag that comes with it. She was always trying her best to give us the best, but this was a much bigger toll on her. BUT as her only daughter, this was a very special moment for her. She didn’t had a party when she turned 15 and she wanted her only daughter to experience that special tradition. AND my biggest reason to not want to do it was the Father-Daughter dance… He was not going to be there and I kept thinking that moment would end up breaking my heart for good… I had a conversation with a priest who was also a close family friend about it. He explained to me this party meant so much to my mom and I needed to be a good daughter and appreciate her effort, her love, her desire. I didn’t had a dad to dance with but I had a loving mom with a dream for me and three brothers who shared that dance with me. It wasn’t perfect but it was. He was there with me. In the loving eyes of my mom, in the awkward dance moves of my brothers, in the joy I felt for having that moment to create a memory.

Some days are easier than others. Some moments are easier than others. His absence becomes a daily habit and other times his absence is a clear hollow in my day. A few years ago at my work they were asking  to send pictures of your father or with him to create a collage for Father’s Day. I remember looking through this box I have with old pics my mom brought from Guatemala and I couldn’t find a picture of just the two of us… that hurt. Pictures and cameras were not as easily accessible as they are these days 30+ years ago. There are pictures of just him. There are pictures of the family. There is no “daddy’s little girl” picture anywhere. This is one of those things that come and stings every time. Is not like I can take a picture now to make up for it. That made me realize a very important thing: pictures are priceless… or at least they are when the person in the picture is gone and all you have is stamp of a special moment in time. Pictures make us remember; they help us relive. I started taking a lot more pictures of my kids since. Not looking for the “picture perfect” moments but rather just to remember those moments we lived.

So today it would have been a fieston loco kinda day. It isn’t. But I have the reassurance that my love for him is everlasting… amor eterno. He is not physically with me to hug and kiss, to give me advise, to celebrate the especial moments but in my heart he lives every day, every moment, all the time.  Today is a special day; it will always be. The day my dad was born 65 years ago. And I just want to say:

Happy birthday in heaven daddy. I cannot see you but I can remember you. There isn’t a day where I don’t think of you. You will always live in my heart.

Mario Rolando, may he rest in peace.

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