Today is my daddy’s birthday. He would’ve been 88 years old.
When my daddy died, his sister and her children cried. Even when his sister was so old she couldn’t remember anyone else, she cried for her Elias (my daddy’s name.)
When my daddy died, his wife’s brothers and sisters cried too. To this day, when my uncles speak about him, there is such respect and admiration in their voice that I am moved to tears.
When my daddy died, a big hole was left in the hearts of his five children. His older daughter visits his grave yearly, leaving flowers in memory of a father she didn’t get the chance to see very often in life. His three sons mourn for their father and I hope provide stability in the lives of their children as he seemed to do for them. And his younger daughter, well she grieves for the man she didn’t get to know.
I remember a man who would watch TV while he sat on his knees and ate peanut M&Ms without wearing his dentures. I remember a man who would grab at my mom’s breast, which would make her call out to him in an an exasperated but loving voice “Tata!” which was her nickname for him. I remember a man who would break out in song without reason and pull you into a dance with him.
I remember dancing with this man just once at a wedding, and he was a very good dancer. I remember a man who would play with my toes when I was sitting next to him. I remember a man who went out of his way for his family.
I remember a man who loved his family. He was a good man. I love you, daddy. Happy birthday.
Posted by mmkeekah 
