Blueberries

05.14.15

I loved blueberries. still do, actually. My ability to recall my childhood is unimpressive, but I remember the blueberries. My dad wasn't around a lot. not because he didn't want to be there, but because he had to be to provide for us. when he was home I can remember sitting in front of the french doors at a table built for someone my size at the time (about 2 feet). despite the insanely tiny chairs and surface area of the table, he would sit with me and eat a colander of freshly washed blueberries until we left it as an gutted carcass.
 13 years later and the irony slaps me awake. He quit his job to spend time with us when I was about 14, and for the first time I saw him break apart for me, momentarily. I had resented him as a spiteful preteen for never being around for me, and only after seeing salt water stain his cheeks did I realize all he sacrificed for me. he loved me and my siblings unconditionally, and had to leave say goodbye to us hundreds of times for work. I cant handle one goodbye, and he had to do it every other week? I cant imagine the heartache he experience leaving his 1, 3, and 4 year olds so often until the were 12, 14 and 15. I saw his heartbreak in divorce. I saw him fall apart from the stress of his job.  At 14 he opened my eyes to the genuine hurt that everyone, even those who seem the strongest, experience.
He fuels my passion to do something substantial with my life. everyday he drives me to be happy. He is not a man who sugar coats anything. He taught me the value of the dollar by never allowing me to expect anything. He had the resources to give us anything we wanted, but he didn't. not even close. no handouts. work for what you want, that's what he taught. nobodies ever going to just hand you what you want, so why would I let you grow up thinking that? "give your kids enough to start something, but not enough to do nothing" he says. He taught me how to be a self sufficient person, how to fight for what I want, and to never expect a thank you. hand in hand with these harsh lessons he taught me to be a good person. you cant be an a**hole and get away with it. Continuing to support me in whatever I'm driven to do, he lets me take risks if I am passionate about what im doing. That is my father, my best friend. There are a lot of gaping holes in my memories where he wasn't there, but when he was around he made an impact, and what he could to shape me into a decent human being.