Through My Fathers Eyes

As a young boy growing up I never new my father but I do remember meeting him for the first time I guess
I had to be  about 13 years old or so,its something that really makes a life's impression on you.
Just a couple of years ago ,I just met four of my siblings that I never knew I had
and now I'm gonna meet this man my  brothers and sisters call dad.Now I'm not very keen on riding with someone i just knew just a couple of years ago and even though she's my older sister, trust is something I have problems with even to this day.Now the drive would be about 25 minutes or so and I heard hes held up in a hotel in the shadier part of town.
Arriving at last with knots in my stomach thinking about this whole ordeal as  I look around ,Well its not the ghetto I suppose but looking at this hotel I'm guessing its seen better days and about the looks of it ,it was probably dated
around the nineteen forty's when this area was booming with agriculture and now this old building is just a shadow of its former self with red bricks discolored and falling apart.
Climbing up to the 2nd floor the stairs start crinkling with every step  and not to mention the hollowness of this building has as it echos throughout. With one last breath I knock on his door room number 11 as it opens only to see this dark colored Spanish man smiling my way and his arms covering me with a hug and a  kiss on the forehead and speaking a language unfamiliar to me.Now that were in his room I see my other siblings here laughing and talking in Spanish that I truly don't speak let alone don't understand. This here is really awkward but at last i can say I have a dad now and when the conversation is directed at me it must be interpreted both ways .I do
remember my mother saying I do look like him a bit and a little of his antic's too.So many stories she told me about my father of how he liked to drink a lot and cheat at cards and a big womanizer too, I guess we cant all be perfect  we just got to grow up sometime soon.I don't
recall what drove my mother and him apart I guess you can figure this one out but its a he said she said thing and I don't want any part of it .The years gone by and my mother too and my dads barley hanging on to life as i sit here on his death bed waiting for him to die.I'm here now and its been about 35 years since the last time I've seen him .He looked very fragile and bone skinny with pasty skin and his breathing was very labored too I was lost for words as I stood there till  our eyes finally met then his closed for the last time and that was it.I was
sadden for not knowing my father more with only a last name that we shared and a couple of greetings but I guess we'll both have plenty of time in the after life to have a sit down and learn a little more about each other that we didn't have here on earth  through my fathers eyes.........


ROUGH DRAFT ONLY

Reviews

[V.L.Mir]

What a heartfelt expression of love. I'm sorry, 914. Parting is such a sweet sorrow according to Shakespeare and I firmly believe that though death may limit our time here, it is not the end of it. No, It can never dictate the end of life. I'm sure wherever your father is, he is very proud of you and talks highly about you in Spanish, haha.