My Dad
My dad was a Cuban who immigrated to this country during the depression. He learned English as quickly as he could and immediately went to work as a dishwasher. While serving in the army during WW II, he met my British mom and the rest is history.
My dad rose to become an award-winning Pastry Chef, but he remained a laborer all his life. He was never educated, but his wisdom was profound. He was gentle, patient and loving, and he knew right from wrong.
To the day he died, my dad loved this country deeply and often said that his proudest achievment was becoming a United States citizen.
He detested Fidel Castro and the so-called revolution, and refused innumerable invitations from family to return home for a visit.
When people asked him why he never taught me spanish, his answer was blunt. “We are Americans and we speak english.”
He was a democrat most of his life, back when democrats really put country above party. He became a republican to vote for Ronald Regan and remained a republican for the rest of his life.
What I realize about my dad today is that he was a genuine patriot, a true American and he passed that gift to me.
Today is his day. I miss him still and am honored to be his son.
