The day my father died something inherently changed in my life. I don’t mean just the fact, I don’t mean I lost my father. I’m implying a more overwhelming and enormous consequence. My father’s death changed me in ways I’m only beginning to realize now. It changed the way I relate to other people, the way I see myself, it has changed my sentimental life, my interests and to the very core it has changed me.
I was 10 years old when he died. My mother was left to raise 3 children, a 10 year old boy and two younger girls.
Here’s the first kick for you, I remember that at his funeral the thing I most heard was: “You’re the man of the house now, you need to take care of the girls.”. And I did, God knows I at least tried. Picked them up from wherever they where, took care of them and even, on occasion, complained about the loud music. I like to think we’re better through that bond, that we were simply lucky enough to become attached by the hip. To this day I can’t for the life of me understand people who don’t love their siblings as much as me. I would gladly and without hesitation give up any wish or need to make theirs happen.
That most ridiculous line, that line that you say to the “man of the house”, he who’s left, shaped every single action that came after.
My father’s death also shaped how I related to my Mother. She’s the strongest person I know, of any sex for that matter. An exceptional mother, hard worker and just phenomenal human being who when thrown into that struggled and conquered with poise like I’ve never seen before or will ever see again. Strong and confident she gave me a role model like no other, she’s been a mom and dad to us three. I can’t picture many people out there willing to sacrifice how she did for us. I’m her biggest fan, I’ll always be.
It feels like it’s been the four of us since the beginning. We simply don’t know anything else. I wish everyone could see.
I owe my middle name to him you know? Alfred. I owe him many other things like Violet, Camila and Sofia. My girls.
I love you guys.