[VENT-L] The Coolest Dad in the Universe
quiragl(AT)pacific.net.ph
Sat, 04 Jul 1998 03:32:14 +0800
The Coolest Dad in the Universe
By Angie K. Ward-Kucer
<This is long but worth the time!>
He was 50 years old when I was born, and a "Mr. Mom" long before anyone
had a name for it. I didn't know why he was home instead of Mom, but I was
young and the only one of my friends who had their dad around. I considered
myself very lucky.
Dad did so many things for me during my grade-school years. He convinced
the school bus driver to pick me up my house instead of the usual bus stop
that was six blocks away. He always had my lunch ready for me when I came
home - usually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was shaped for the
season. My favorite was at Christmas. The sandwiches would be sprinkled
with green sugar and cut in the shape of a tree.
As I got a little older and tried to gain my independence, I wanted to
move away from those "childish" signs of his love. But he wasn't going to
give up. In high school and no longer able to go home for lunch, I began
taking my own. Dad would get up a little early and make it for me. I never
knew what to expect. The outside of the sack might be covered with his
rendering of a mountain scene (it became his trademark) or a heart
inscribed with "Dad-n-Angie K.K." in its center. Inside there would be a
napkin with that same heart or an "I love you." Many times he would write
a joke or a riddle, such as "Why don't they ever call it a momsicle instead
of a popsicle?" He always had some silly saying to make me smile and let me
know that he loved me.
I used to hide my lunch so no one would see the bag or read the napkin, but
that didn't last long. One of my friends saw the napkin one day, grabbed
it, and passed it around the lunch room. My face burned with embarrassment.
To my astonishment, the next day all my friends were waiting to see the
napkin. From the way they acted, I think they all wished they had someone
who showed them that kind of love. I was so proud to have him as my father.
Throughout the rest of my high school years, I received those napkins, and
still have a majority of them.
And still it didn't end. When I left home for college (the last one to
leave), I thought the messages would stop. But my friends and I were glad
that his gestures continued.
I missed seeing my dad every day after school and so I alled him a lot. My
phone bills got to be pretty high. It didn't matter what we said; I just
wanted to hear his voice. We started a ritual during that first year that
stayed with us. After I said good-bye he always said, "Angie?" "Yes, Dad?"
I'd reply. "I love you." "I love you, too, Dad."
I began getting letters almost every Friday. The front-desk staff always
knew who the letter were from - the return address said "The Hunk." Many
times the envelopes were addressed in crayon, and along with the enclosed
letters were usually drawings of our cat and dog, stick figures of him and
Mom, and if I had been home the weekend before, of me racing around town
with friends and using the house as a pit stop. He also had his mountain
scene and the heart-encased inscription, Dad-n-Angie K.K.
The mail was delivered every day right before lunch, so I'd have his
letters with me when I went to the cafeteria. I realized it was useless to
hide them because my roommate was a high school friend who knew about his
napkins. Soon it became a Friday afternoon ritual. I would read the
letters, and the drawing and envelope would be passed around.
It was during this time that Dad became stricken with cancer. When the
letters didn't come on Friday, I knew that he had been sick and wasn't able
to write. He used to get up at 4:00a.m. so he could sit in the quiet house
and do his letters. If he missed his Friday delivery, the letters would
usually come a day or two later. But they always came. My friends used to
call him "Coolest Dad in the Universe." And one day they sent him a card
bestowing that title, signed by all of them. I believe he taught all of us
about a father's love. I wouldn't be surprised if my friends started
sending napkins to their children. He left an impression that would stay
with them and inspire them to give their own children their expression of
their love.
Throughout my four years of college, the letters and phone calls came at
regular intervals. But then the time came when I decided to come home and
be with him because he was growing sicker, and I knew that our time
together was limited. Those were the hardest days to go through. To watch
this man, who always acted so young, age past his years. In the end he
didn't recognize who I was and would call me the name of a relative he
hadn't seen in many years. Even though I knew it was due to his illness, it
still hurt that he couldn't remember my name.
I was alone with him in his hospital room a couple of days before he died.
We held hands and watched TV. As I was getting ready to leave, he said,
"Angie?" "Yes, Dad?" "I love you." "I love you, too, Dad."
You may forward or copy this as long as the story is not altered and I am
credited. Angie
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A food for the heart for all dads and daughters. A pleasant day too!
Sincerely,
Alex Quirante
"There is always a better way of doing things, there is nothing best!" -> A
motto for progress.