In medicine we often speak of a support system. After a woman gives birth to an infant I always enquire regarding her support system and no I am not referring to her panty hose or brazier. I want to know, does she have family in town, is she married, other children, friends, etc. I want to make sure she has someone to lean on when times are tough and most of us know times can be very tough with a newborn. Well, I would like to take a moment and write of my support system growing up at home. Since this is Father's day, I will focus on my dad.
My father was his children's biggest fan. He attended every single sporting event. He attended every single musical event. These included events that were on an island in the Pacific Ocean or 10 hours away northeast of California in Utah Valley. My father would get in the car after work at 6pm on a Friday evening and drive either through the night or stopping once to attend a basketball game the following day at the Marriott Center. He somehow, always had a press pass, either because he worked for Kodak and took professional pictures or because of his "Santiago Wear", and he would sit on the ground and snap shots of my brother and his teammates. Then within 24 hours he would turn around and drive back another 10 hours to get to work on Monday. How did I know? Well, I was usually accompanying him.
He attended my sister's recitals, my other brother's football games, my musicals and that reference to the island was for Gaka's sporting events, my oldest brother who attended college in Hawaii. During my high school years, my father would sit in the stands with a video camera. He filmed each of my games. Then he would review them with me and either give pointers or simply watch the game over again with me for second time. Dad continues this legacy as he now supports his grandchildren and their endeavors. He recently attended a phenomenal performance by a grandchild who played lead in a high school musical. By the end of the performance, there was a puddle under his chair from his constant tears. He seems to be touched easier as he gets older.
Out of all these, however, I will never forget a particular moment where his presence and embrace impacted me for life. I was playing high school basketball in my senior year. As a member of my family, there was a lot of pressure to do well in sports. My three older brothers all held records in the high school, including Gaka for most handsome athlete, and so I was the caboose intended to out shine them all. However, I was missing a few inches compared to two of them and a lot of talent compared to all of them. Regardless, I had a fighting spirit especially when we competed against Wilson. They were our biggest rival and this particular year they were good. We were not half bad but our team was made more of cooperation and spirit as opposed to height and talent. The game was played before a packed Wilson Gym. I was playing against some friends that had come to the house when we were in elementary school to dunk on our outside height-adjusting court. Let us just say that the heat was on so much during this game that those elementary memories were pushed way aside. By halftime the game was tied. I was discouraged because like many games that year I had not scored very many by that point in the game. By the end of the game we had won the battle. My coach, our fans and my teammates were so thrilled. For most of us it was like winning a national championship. For me, however, it was a failure. Once again, in spite of the team win, I was discouraged with what I viewed as a minimal contribution. The fans started to come to the floor congratulating all of us, I hid my true emotions, that is until I saw my dad. Our eyes met and I lost it, crying like a baby as a senior athlete in high school. My dad just held me and hid me in his 6'8'', 240 lb frame. I am not sure he understood then but I was so grateful he was there to support me that day and I will never forget that moment I was able to hide in his embrace and feel of his unconditional love.
Dad, this Father's Day, I want you to know that I love you. I am grateful for who you are and the life you live. I am grateful for those great memories of driving across the west, sleeping at my sister's or the Royal Inn and watching so many events with you. I love you dad. I hope your day goes well. The Borks
No comments:
Post a Comment