Friday, 5 August 2016

Daddy Always Can






So, my father, The General, took me to the ice skating rink for the first time. We both dressed the special skates and went to the rectangle. I was extremely reticent and in full fear. My father looked at me as if he did not know me. 




He took that position of it is all routine and went, so that I am realistically watching a man who is more than twice my age going around with confidence whilst I support myself on the rail with all my forces. I am like not even two meters when my father is completing his first round trip, like his first full ellipsis over the ice. I am thinking that this is going to be traumatizing for me, since I am not really going to be able to evolve much from what I am currently doing. That is when I hear the thunder: I look and my dad is belly up, completely flat on the ice, body all open to the sky, as if he were in a cross, and with legs wide open. It was such a noise that I could swear the place was exploding. I could not yell or anything because he was looking exactly the same, like same expression on the face, and all. 




My daddy was a tough man: That rink he could take sip by sip, basically. 




I am perplexed watching and seeing what is going to happen. I find it weird that everyone else seems to think like me and nobody is actually moving to help him. I think I mumbled something, not sure. That is when daddy gets up as if nothing had happened, his 1.80 m of height, his body with all that hair that he always had, to the point of having to trim the nostrils, and starts skating again with exactly the same facial expression of every minute he had been there for that far. And there daddy goes again, I thought. 




And I was still hanging on to the rail in panic, now a bit more than before. 




Not even two minutes pass and thunder again. I cannot tell how it felt because, sincerely, I cannot connect to it, like I really don't remember. Again, daddy was flat, belly up, his eyes of frog wide open and starring at the roof or something, his body in cross, legs open, all the same. Again everyone reacts in the same way. Again dad raises in exactly the same way, and I am already thinking, what in a hell we are doing here, like one of us should know what to do. I think I finally found somebody to help me learn something, and I was then starting to rehearse some steps without the rail, but with the help of the lad's arm, when thunder happened again: Oh, my God! I thought that that time daddy was gone forever: It would not be possible to raise a third time, to have fallen in exactly the same position, as all the previous times, in exactly the same way, having it all happening exactly the same in general, and then raise. Notwithstanding, not to be believed, daddy did raise again in exactly the same way. 




I asked excuse-me, and took daddy home after that one: Time for stubborn kids to sleep. Oh, dear!




They say the generals always raise, but 1991 was final for daddy: Now only in spirit. Oh, poor Marcia!




That is who my father was: Were he alive and well in that 2001, were he a few years younger than he was when compared to me, and I swear to you that all the crimes I endure would have been stopped right there. I would have gotten both PhD title and permanent academic position at most in 2002 in Australia or even in the USA. That was a daddy that was worth the world indeed. 







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