The Man I call Dad

“Get the toolbox” I hear as I wake up, Saturday morning. I get the toolbox, he is already downstairs, with a piece of cardboard to lay on under the car. “Get me the medium socket wrench with a 10mm on it” I knew what a socket looked like, but no idea what a 10mm looked like. I handed him the wrong one, “the other one, a 10mm” he snaps, I rummaged thru the box, I put a bigger one on the wrench, he says “bigger one”, I finally I got the right one. My first experience driving was in the family’s Chevy Monza, stick shift,

With a v8 in it, I watched him place a full manual transmission on his chest, after, I watched him take a rusted bolt off with his bare fingers, he had the grip strength of a gorilla.

One time I slipped and fell straddling the curb, really racked my nuts, I couldn’t get up, I’m 14 or 15 about 120 to 130 pounds, he scooped me up, like I was a sack of rice. His forearms were rock hard, he always had stamina, he would run from the house to Belmont pier, and back 8 miles, everyday except for Sunday. He has always in my eyes been the image of strength.

I walk into the hotel room, and I see him, my Dad, now thin and skinny, not in a healthy way skinny, now a shell of what he once was, but still he is my Dad, he stepped in when I was just a baby, and has been there ever since. I fear this is the last time I will see him alive and I am sad. In my mind I still envision him strong standing up with a full head of jet black hair, I prefer to remember him this way because this was the guy who is and was a great man in my life, he will always be that in my heart and mind.

I sit here in the airport trying not to cry.

I remember sitting on a Greyhound bus, I was 6 or 7 my little brother was maybe 3, eating Vienna sausages, and potted meat sandwiches, riding from Illinois to Long Beach. I have really good memories of my Dad, 7th and juanipero, my dad held crab cook parties this was even before my brother was born. One Christmas I got a little “zip-pull” dragster, I loved that thing, I remember riding my friends bike in the alley, and falling off, hitting my head really good, waking up and seeing my mom and dad there, waiting for me to wake up. My mom and Dad took turns sitting with me overnight, because I had a concussion. My dad was the one who taught me how to swim, once I said I knew how to swim it was test by fire, as he tossed me into the deep end of an 8 foot deep pool, I did know how to swim after that. I remember him telling my little brother and I, “if I have to come find you, your too far from the house, if you can’t hear me call your names, then your too far from the house” of course we always were too far from the house. I learned how to cook by watching him in the kitchen, after long enough watching him, he said ok you know how to cook rice, so before your mom and I get home put the rice on, but don’t burn it, make sure you watch it. First 2 times we had semi burned rice. Once I got cooking rice down, we got an automatic rice cooker. Every day my mom would tell me “take out the meat from the freezer, so it will be thawed out, make rice and do your homework”. They would tell me “watch over your little brother, don’t let anyone mess with him, make sure nothing happens to him.” One time my dad was coming from a job interview or going to a job interview, we stopped at a gas station, Belmont shores gas station, I go to the bathroom, while my dad was getting air in the tires of the car, the same Monza from earlier, I think I was like 11 or 12, my little brother was maybe 7, 2 older kids 14 maybe 15 came into the restroom, they started beating me up because I didn’t have any money, the bathroom door flies open and my little brother runs in and in one motion kicks this kid right in the balls, he drops to the ground and lets out a scream, his friend ran out while he screamed and followed, my dad was right there. My little brother wasn’t so little after that.

Was my dad a hard man, yes when needed, there were times I was a rebellious young teen, and needed my ass beat, but those times I really don’t remember, because those times I needed it, and in getting that ass whopping, he showed he loved me, I know it sounds backwards.

I ran away more than a couple times, he was the one who would walk the streets looking for me, mainly because my mom had to be up early to go to work the next morning, and he didn’t want my mom out on the mean street, even if they would be together looking for me. One time they came to pick me up at the Torrance police station, I had a neon blue Mohawk, I thought I was tough.

My mom shaved my hawk off before church. They fought to get me out of the system, the Los Angeles youth system, took a little bit, but then I surprised them and joined the Navy.

My mom and dad have been together since my dad stepped in soo long ago, he has been there thru it all, thru it all….

I remember my dad yelling at the TV, while watching football, the news, the presidential debates, commercials, basically just watching TV. I have only seen my dad cry once, the time we had to put “fidget” down, that cat was his little buddy, first was tigger, one Saturday my dad was sitting in the living room, the screen door cracked open, and in walked this grey-ish white striped kitten, and it went straight to my dad and jumped on the couch, and sat in his lap,….. we had a cat.

Then there was Fred, a wild red tabby, who drove my dad nuts, in jr high school I made a chess board and my dad had pretty nice chess set, it was out on the living room coffee table, that dang cat would run from my mom and dads room to the living room, jump into the coffee table and slide all the way across it, sending the chess pieces everywhere.

My mom and dad had a queen size bed, with a high headboard, Fred would wait till 2 or 3 AM to walk across the edge of the headboard, of course he would slip and fall, usually on my dads face….. lol.

I should have been a better son to him, I was stubborn and hardheaded, didn’t listen, and gave him a lot of grey hair with stress.

The way I want to remember my dad is, there is a picture of him at Belmont cliffs, he’s wearing a t-shirt and blue jeans, he has shiny jet black hair, with a Tony Orlando mustache, he has leather sandles

on wind in his hair sun on his face,

Big smile with his gold tooth shining. One of the best pictures of him I think.

I would love to go back, with a “do over” I’m sure everyone would, but thinking about it, I would be the one to change, I wouldn’t want him to change at all. But I know by me changing in turn he would change, that being said then, I wouldn’t change a thing…..but the “do over” would still be nice.

I love you Dad,

Your Son,

Derek