Mi Padre

Miguel remained rapt in thought as he stood before the dining room. All five children of the Garcia family raced to the door the moment they heard that unmistakable rumbling of the old Ford pickup come to an abrupt cessation. The heavy footsteps that followed suggested another enervating day at the factory.

The Garcia household froze in silence as the footsteps came to a standstill. The jingling of keys, accompanied by a series of heavy coughs made the youngest of the brood attempt to contain his laughter. "Papa's going to get a..", the youngest whispered cheekily before his older brother forced a palm over his talk hole.

"Happy Father's Day", the whole lot of them fought to be the first to give their father a hug. A ruckus of sorts soon ensued before Mr Garcia dropped to his knees and hugged all of them at once. Sophie, the eldest of the Garcia children, took a step back obligingly.

"Happy Father's Day Papa", Sophie wished her father after her younger siblings had released the firm hold they had on him. "Come here Sophie", Mr Garcia beckoned to Sophie to give him a hug. "What you're too old now to give me a hug huh girl?", Mr Garcia teased Sophie. Everyone knew, as much as Mr Garcia tried to demonstrate an equal amount of love throughout, that Sophie was his favourite.

"Ah, Miguel. You're here today. Why aren't you home son? It's just another normal day for your family?", Mr Garcia quizzed. "Erm..Ermm...Yes Sir. Me Papa died last year in a hit and run. And Mama....well Mama doesn't come home much these days since his death", Miguel lamented with his eyes looking down.

"Well. You must stay for dinner then. No one is suppose to have dinner alone on a special day like today", his heavy tone was firm and it was useless for Miguel to take leave. Furthermore, at least he can spend a little more time with his beloved Sophie.

Miguel never discussed about his father since his untimely death until today. Looking at Mr Garcia, sitting at the head of the dining table, guiding the family in saying their grace was a little bit too emotional for Miguel. No boy should bury his own father at the tender age of seventeen he felt and forced to be the man of the house but Miguel kept his thoughts to himself.

"Papa, are you going to teach us how to fix that punctured bicycle wheel?", the youngest blurted out at the dining table, with his mouth still full of food. "You promised..you promised", he didn't allow his father any time to gather his thoughts. "Well I have no choice do I?" Mr Garcia conceded. "How about we all go to that carnival in town later?", Mr Garcia laid out an offer hard to refuse. "Yayyyyyy!!", came the unanimous reply.

Miguel vividly recalled the day his own father thought him how to change his bicycle tire. It was an old red BMX. There were many a things that his father taught him that made it hard for Miguel to erase him entirely out of his thoughts.

Like all good fathers should, his father taught him how to tie his shoelaces, to shape a mean slingshot from the fallen branches of trees, and to excel at sports. As he got older, his father thought him how to shave like a real man with a straight edge razor, and how to impress a girl with a racing car amongst many other things.

Most importantly, little by little, his Father was already shaping him to become the man that he almost is and to not depend so much on others. At that exact moment, Miguel felt a surge of new energy and life breathe into his body, clearing all the worries and wrinkles that showed on his boyish face.

Miguel cupped his hands and closed his eyes. With renewed confidence, he said a little prayer in his heart and wished it wasn't too late to whisper Happy Father's Day. Somewhere out there, he knew that his proud father heard it too.