The way I see it, my perception of my dad is built on moments. In a way, each moment is kind of a building block that makes up who I think he is. They don’t all have to be huge milestones to be important blocks. They all just have to mean something to me.
When I was in kindergarten my dad would pick me up and we would go to the gas station with a little Taco Bell connected to it. He would buy me a little bowl of beans and cheese, because that was the only thing I ate from there, and then I would pick out the same colored purple gumball.
We would go home and as he reclined his chair and took a “cat nap,” I would sit in the middle of the floor and watch “Dora The Explorer.” When I was done with my little bowl of beans and cheese I would wake my dad up from his snore filled sleep and ask for my gumball.
As I grew past the phase of gumballs after kindergarten class, I grew into the phase where everyone faked being sick. One time, when I was little and claiming to be sick to get out of school, my dad walked into my room to assess how sick I really was. I thought I had gotten off easy because usually, it was my mom who checked on us and since she was an actual nurse she was a little harder to convince.
My dad felt my forehead and talked me through my “symptoms” and just when I thought he was going to get the thermometer he holds up his pinky. “You promise you're sick?” I was surprised but, of course, I said yes. Then he asks, “You promise to God you’re sick?”
Well, if that doesn’t show you if your kid is actually sick, at least it shows how committed they are to their charade.
These two memories are etched into my brain. These memories might be simple but they are blocks, nonetheless.
My dad could have just picked me up from Kindergarten and brought me home to a sandwich or some cereal. He could have just sat me in the kitchen while he watched the news or some sitcom that he enjoyed because parents need to unwind too. Except he took me to Taco Bell and bought me a snack/lunch and even let me pick out a gumball.
He let me watch Dora, which I think we all know how annoying that show can get, and didn’t look upset when I would always wake him up asking for my gumball. This memory shows me that he was and is currently the best dad that has always tried to make life enjoyable for his kids.
You might ask, how does making a child pinky promise to God whether she is sick or not create a good memory?
Well, first of all, I have never heard anyone else’s parents do that. I think it was a clever way to get a child to tell the truth about not being sick even if they swear up and down that they are. Even my husband said that that is something he will try on our kids one day.
Second of all, while this is just one memory, it reminds me of all the other memories where my dad sees that we are authentically sick and has the kind of caring voice that only a parent can have. The kind of voice that makes you feel a little bit better just by saying, “How are you feeling?”
That’s how building blocks work. You take a couple blocks, or some simple memories, and you build off of them. You take a pinky promise of illness or an everyday routine and build off of it until you get the correct perception. My correct perception is that I have a dad that loves his family and is someone to look up to.