My old man made me, literally and in so many other ways.
He rocked me to sleep. He loved me.
He gave me my nose and my chin and my stubborness.
He taught me.
Some of the lessons were good.
Some of the lessons were not what he intended.
He was occasionally kind and often he was rude.
My old man was so smart…and so stuck.
He loved. He feared. He lashed out.
He didn’t know how to say he was sorry.
He prayed the rosary daily, dedicating each section to one of his children.
He cursed like a sailor.
My old man suffered, more than I will ever know.
He knew loss greater than I have known.
Sometimes he made me proud and a lot of times he really pissed me off.
In the end, he taught me compassion and forgiveness.
My old man, my father,
I will always love him and miss him.
Happy Father’s Day Dad.
Anna Figueroa
Midnight Thoughts 