Memories of my Father During this Summer

And if I speak of Paradise,

I’m speaking of my Father who taught me to explore life.

Now, I look at his message of Good Cheer for Christmas 1945 from the Philippines when World War II was nearly over in Europe. My Father had a temporary leave back home in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Sometime later he was assigned to serve in the Pacific since the fighting was still going on. My Dad had not yet met me. His sense of humor is distinct. A mystery inside. The note says: Look with Mother into that bright light that warms the heart and the heavenly message is love.

I’m speaking of my Father who taught me to explore life.

In 1947 at age 2 my parents took me to Colombia, South America leaving from Galveston, Texas to Barranquilla. Our tour began when we sailed slowly up the Magdalena River. I was enraptured by the flowing water. I threw my toys one by one watching them float down the river. Too late for Mother to stop me.

I’m speaking of my Father who taught me to explore life.

At age 5, I followed Father up the mountain of the Three Crosses that surrounded our neighborhood in Cali.

I’m speaking of my Father who taught me to explore life. 

Daily. Beginning with the breakfast ritual of plump and juicy papaya left to ripen on our roof terrace. I wish I could tell him this year, I have discovered Brigham Farm’s in Concord, MA juicy red grapes.

This summer’s swimming at Valley Pond in Weston was another Paradise. For when I looked up from the pond when I swam, I saw a Mackerel sky, veils thin and white covered most of the sky. When the sky was radiant, I remembered how Father played in the water. He made funny sounds with his hands.

I’m speaking of my Father who taught me to explore life.

But then what really made Paradise for him was the Cali moon. There was no moon like the Cali moon for Father. He lived in Cali for 50 years. He never left.

Of such are dreams made.