Pops

"When I was little, my biggest dream was to one morning, eat two eggs, a slice of bread, and a whole glass of milk."

As a kid, Dad would have one egg once a week for breakfast. Most of the time, he would have to share a slice of sweet bread with his sister, and drink coffee with the tiniest drip of milk, on a "good day."

"At school, three of my friends and I would share half a kilo of tortillas. We would trade days where one of us would be responsible to bring the salt shaker. We'd sit by the big mulberry tree during lunch and eat salt-tacos."

Daddy was one of the poorest kids in his tiny town. He remembers hearing about other kids putting butter on their "salt tacos" and thinking "Shit... how much money do their dads make to afford butter?!"

"Every Christmas, I'd ask Baby Jesus for a bike. I promised I would share it with my brother... but it never happened. Not a single year. I knew he brought toys on Christmas only because my neighbors would wake up, run outside, and play with their new toys that morning. Their laughter would wake me up... and I'd see them from my door, playing with their new bike, or sporting their new shoes, or whatever."

His neighbors were rich. They weren't mean, per se, they were just naive, and didn't know other people were less fortunate.

"One day, a friend caught me shaking off the dandruff from my hair. He tried making fun. My response? One day... all those flecks of dandruff you see coming off my hair, will be bills... hundred dollar bills."

Ambitious, driven Daddy.
"I had one serious girlfriend once I came to Las Vegas. She was my best friend's sister... I love her, and I really wanted to marry her. I dumped her after I overheard an argument she was having with her mother. 'What does he have to offer you?! He's just a mechanic! A poor, Mexican, bastard!' A couple of months later, I went to her wedding. I sat in the back row, hoping she would back out. Once she said 'Yes,' I promised myself I'd NEVER stop working until I became rich. No one would ever belittle me again." "Did you cry, Daddy... when she said yes?" "I walked out... went to my favorite bar, and got shitfaced."

I often fight with my dad, but God, do I love that man.
I used to resent him as a kid, because he was never around. Whenever we were lucky enough to have him home, we had to stay quiet, and let him sleep... he only had a couple of hours before the beginning of his second work shift.
He often brags about money... which drives me insane... but I step back, and think of his childhood.

We might have had a rough start, but Daddy kept his word.
I might no have seen him often, but we never had the huge needs he once had as a child... and Santa always visited us... up until my baby sis was 13 years old.
Now? I can't even begin to describe the amazing wishes he has made come true for my siblings and I.
Sure, Daddy wasn't much of a nurturer... a grizzly bear might have been able to take better care of us (case and point, the photos below. I know I've used them before... but Jesus Christ... I still can't get over where he placed those seat belts on us- his own kids! They were over-the-shoulder SEAT BELTS, how does that translate to "around the belly" and especially "AROUND THE NECK?!" hahaha):

But... he has gone above and beyond when it comes to providing.

He's my daddy, mi papiringo... mi papirrin... mi amorsototote!

He makes me laugh until my stomach hurts by simply picking up pen and paper, and doodling for me (such a HORRIBLE artist, with freakish attention to detail, if that makes sense).
His optimistic, kind, heart gives me hope for humanity.

I love you, Dad. You're an incredible person. Thank you.