I had my differences in my relationship with my father. Several, and many times I thought that the only solution was for me or him to disappear from the map.
He was always very strict, even angry. I can say that for many years I was more afraid of him than I respected him. But we adapt, living together and time brings some lessons. Complex relationships, everything is tangled up, mixed up. Love and hate, fear and respect, in short. Well, but throughout life, many chips fall and we understand things in different ways. Let's do our re-readings of the situations. I was noticing many qualities of him that I couldn't see when we were Tom and Jerry.
The first time I was able to have clarity about how important my father was, is and always will be in my life, was between the ages of 19 and 21. I don't remember exactly! I also don't remember what exactly brought up that memory. He sang a lot and played the harmonica! Yes, and I always loved being behind him, listening to the tangos, Italian songs and so many others that he played by ear.
I was delighted looking at him and I can risk that my musical sensibility came from him for sure. And, in an impulse to “make peace” with my father, I gave him a harmonica as a gift (which is now with me!). Long time no play! And when I heard him playing I cried a lot! At that moment, I started to collect a few pieces of a love I hadn't seen before.
Another thing I recognized after many years was that I inherited from him a love for building, renovating things and woodworking. I love DIY, painting furniture, renovating it, tools, bricks, glass filled with nails and screws and things like that that we use to create. I have in my memory an image of him, when I was 4 or 5 years old, playing chess, as we used to call it (I don't know if everyone knows it). It is a partition, a kind of trellis made of wood to divide the environments. He did and sang!
Mr Francisco wrote very well! He loved to write for hours, study English by himself and write long texts. He had a natural gift for it. He had always been the valedictorian. And today I understand that my pleasure in writing is also a legacy of his. To this day I use words he used and expressions he spoke. I learned a lot from him. Another relic that is with me is the book “Os LusĂadas” by LuĂs de Camões.
It's been 16 years since he passed away and the memories are here, close to the heart. When he left, I made sure to buy a harmonica to accompany him in his new dimension of life. Who knows, maybe they'll enjoy a Carlos Gardel or Santa Lucia there? Maybe he's building trusses to the sound of “El dia que me quieras”. But of course I sent a harmonica cover. The real one stayed with me.
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Today, after some wanderings along the paths of self-knowledge, from NLP to Systemic Constellations, I understand that “making peace” with my father is honoring 50% of my DNA. It's not nostalgia, it's not just reliving the past, it's valuing myself through it and its legacy. It is knowing that in order to move forward it is necessary to welcome our past and let the experiences bring us wisdom, which give us the strength and meaning to live in the now.
Daddy, I love you!
