Above title of this entry is a translated song lyric from Sarit Hadad’s song, Aba (Father). I always liked that song a lot.

I’ve been thinking about memories a lot today especially as I sat down to talk to Aba and looked at him through the glass wishing I could hug him again. I bitch and moan about him a lot but I do have good memories as well.

When I was younger, Aba would take me to work sometimes when there were no school. As Aba is a contractor, he doesn’t have the typical office job so I was exposed to a lot of interesting people when I was a child. Like the very stereotypical jokes people make about Mexicans being ready to be picked up and given a job, that was a part of my life. Aba would go to 7-11 or Duron Paint Store in Wheaton every morning and he would find Mexicans (or I guess more often than not El Salvadoreans since there’s a huge El Salvadorean community here) who would want to work (as well as their wives) and take them to whatever house he was working at and put them to work. They were some of the nicest people (like Sergio I remember may he RIP who had the huge dragon tattoo on his back or the woman who brought her children and we played in some random person’s backyard while the adults worked). I remember though one of the days that he took me along with him and I wanted to do something and he put me to work oil painting someone’s door (or at least the bottom of it as I couldn’t reach that high!) and complimented my work!

He used to take me to the pool from time to time. Except we never had a membership to the pool…Aba more often than not would sneak us into a pool because I wanted to go swimming (and he wanted to lay there on a chair and tan and doze off). One time I remember he took me to a pool but I didn’t have a bathing suit so I swam in my shorts, freaking out that I didn’t have my bathing suit worrying about what other kids would think. His words:what’s the big deal about what other people are going to think of you, you just do your thing and have fun! I did

Aba and I are also huge history and geography buffs. We both can sit down and look at a map for hours and he would sit with me when I was little with my huge Fisher Price globe (that I still have with its East Germany and West Germany on it!) and point out different places on a map to me and tell me stories about all the different locations. We also have had talks for hours about the politics in Israel and the U.S. which is fun when we get started on U.S. politics because we’re so diametrically opposite on our views – he adores G.W. Bush (no joke!) and if he were a U.S. citizen, he’d be a republican and I’m a registered democrat who hates Bush with a passion.

I used to love watching Who’s the Boss? with him…he always thought Tony Danza=awesome. So did I.

Aba bought me my bikes and helped me learn how to ride a bike. He also bought me name brand sneakers in middle school when I freaked out that all the popular kids wore Adidas and I had Payless. He and Mommy both taught me that they’d buy me the world if they could but to understand that if they didn’t have the money, not to throw a tantrum. I never did because if not at that moment in time, they made sure I had what I wanted and made sure that I knew I was loved. He also I think understood my anxieties as a child (though I don’t think he’ll ever grasp why) because if it did unnerve him, he never let it show considering all the times I would cry if Mommy wasn’t home on time and I would fear for the worst. He never told me I was stupid or wrong for freaking out (or the one time I trashed my room out of fear and anger) but he was there for me and listened. He accepted the best and the worst of me unconditionally. For all the times Mommy and I got into a fight over stupid shit, he’d listen to me and hear me out when she was too upset to.

He also had no problem taking me to see Spice World when I wanted to see it and sat through it with me. We also somehow snuck in to see Titanic. I want to say he also snuck Coby, Mikey, and I when we were little to see 101 Dalmatians (though he could of payed for it but somehow I don’t think that’s likely). There seems to be a recurring theme here!

I used to also always love when I was little when I’d wash my hair and I’d come out in my PJs before I went to sleep and ask him how my hair smelled and all the time, it would be the same answer: like shoshanim (roses). It was a ritual with us. He used to also call me Kipot (porcupine) because when I was little and my hair was wet, it would stick out from all ends like a porcupine’s quills.

With the bad also comes the good and I need to remember that when I’m focusing on the negative too much, I need to stop and think of the good times as well.