Dear Friends,
If you haven't seen my post on Facebook , today would have been my father's 63rd birthday. He passed away in 2014 just after his 61st birthday. I will speak about his death and more next month. This blog entry is about his life and the few times, we bonded as father and son. This is going to be hard for me to write this because I don't normally speak about the dead. I was taught to remember the dead for what they did while living and also to not let your memory of them be tarnished.
My first memory of my father was when we all went to church. My father and stepmother was heavily into the church. I remember how my mom would brag about how he looked in a suit. My father was a sharp dressed man. My father use to tell me that real men wore suits and conducted themselves in a respectful manor. He was true about that. My grandfather use to tell me that when looking at me, he sees my father. My father did conduct himself in a respectful manor. Even though he was personable he was a joy to watch in church and also at home.
When I was 13, I spend my last summer with him. The reason why this was my last summer was because I stopped going over to his house even though he wanted to see me throughout my teens. This was a very interesting summer because I was going to be in high school and be 14 that year. My father worked but he was always home at a certain time. Most of the time, he would be in a joking mood. Plus this was the start of my father and stepmother playing cards and their epic fussing over who's cheating. I was also the desinated oldest. Even though I had an older half brother, I was the oldest. My father told me at a young age that I have to be big brother to my stepsister and stepbrother. This was the summer I was becoming a teen but also being able to see what he was trying to show me.
When I saw my father four years ago, he was a different man. He got sick while going to our family reunion and ended up losing his foot. That's how I found out he was type 2 diabetic. My younger stepbrother showed me his meds and seeing him without his foot was life changing. My father was still happy to see me. I did spend as much time as possible with him even though I was working at the time. One of my best memories of him was Thanksgiving 2012. I just got off working the Thanksgiving game for the Detroit Lions. I came back to my father's apartment to see him locked out of his apartment. My stepmother went to her family to eat and my younger stepbrother was gone somewhere. For the first time since I was a kid, we talked. I remember this because that was the day I told my father I loved him. Plus this was the last time I was able to speak to him about his grandson.
Losing a parent is harder to deal with. Your parents are suppose to live long enough to become grandparents and even great grandparents. Even though my younger stepsister and my half brother had kids, I was suppose to have another Eugene to carry on the name. He would have celebrated his birthday with some fun. It is nice to say that my father's birthday always comes before my own. Also my stepmother's birthday is in between our birthdays. So I am going to celebrate my father's birthday by getting a Whopper at Burger King and smile. Happy Birthday Eugene Jr.
Your Friend,
Eugene
