My father is a very traditional, conservative, religious man. A product of his time, upbringing, and culture. Abandoned by his mother, neglected by his father, and raised by an aunt who already had too many children of her own, my father has always had to fend for himself. From an early age he had to start working, I was once told by him that in the absence of his father, he looked up to his bosses for a role model. A lot of them were drunks and chauvinist. My father grew around these men, idolizing them and learning from them how to be a man. Years have passed but their voices still echo his.
Early on in my life I remember my father talking about how he long for a son. Having had two daughters and a still born, he knew that his dream would never become true. My father was a Sunday-afternoon father, meaning that my sister and I would only see him during that short period of time, as we were always second to my cousin Oscar, whom he considered as the son he would never be able to have, his job, his friends, and of course, Johnny Walker Whiskey.
My father and I never had a typical, father-daughter relationship. He never taught how to do anything else but drive and ride a motorcycle, which he taught me out of the necessity for me to be able to transport myself, not as a bonding experience. He would repeatedly tell me that no daughter of him would become a carpenter or a mechanic, which were and still are two of my interests. I never learned about hand tools, cars, playing soccer, fishing, off roading, hunting, etc from him. I don’t believe he thought I wasn’t able to do those things, I know he thought they were “men” activities that only men should do. My cousin Oscar became my male role model, as he took it upon himself to teach me the things my father wouldn’t. Thanks to him, I learned how to change the oil in car, how to fish, hunt, play soccer, etc. He was always there when I needed him, and he was always happy to teach me anything in which I...
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