Gran Torino

We saw the movie "Gran Torino" with Clint Eastwood yesterday. His character reminded me of Dad so much! His build, his attitude, his hands, his hair, his sarcasm. I missed him so much after that movie, because I would have loved to have talked to him. We saw the movie with Rachelle and Jason. There was a man sitting below us who was all alone. Rachelle commented on that and I told her how dad would go to the movies alone on Sundays and tell us it was his church. Sometimes I miss Dad so much.

I remember going to the movies with him on a Sunday afternoon. He wouldn't just go to one movie. He would go to as many as three movies. If you went with him, he would buy you popcorn, a drink, candy and he would sneak in food from Smith's. He loved to get egg rolls, wrap them up in napkins and hide them in his coat pocket and eat them during the movie. He would order a huge Coke with "little ice" and he was in heaven. I just loved being with him. If there was a funny part in the movie, he would throw his head back and laugh out loud, loud enough for the whole entire theater to hear him. And, he would laugh longer than anyone else, too. Everyone was done laughing and he would still be laughing. I would nudge him with my elbow and he would laugh even harder because he knew I was telling him to be quiet. I would give anything to be able to sit in the movie theater and hear his laughter again! Whenever a black person would appear in the film, he would say, "Yeesss, massah!" in a ghetto accent. He would say it just loud enough for anyone around him to hear and we would turn to him and say, "DAD!!!" I was afraid that one day he would get beat up. He was such a brat.

His favorite thing to do was to order root beer and then complain because the establishment didn't have root beer. He would ask to speak to the manager and complain. If they gave him too much ice in his drink, he would complain about that. If we were in a restaurant and he thought the music was too loud, he would complain. I suspect that he would do all that just when we were around, just for show.

I miss walking into his video store in Alpine and him calling out, "Hey Jud!" or him saying, "That's my girl..." I used to love to talk to him on the phone. I could tell him anything and he wouldn't judge me. He wouldn't tell my mom, either. I remember telling him about a man that I had a crush on when I was married to Fred. I told Dad how unhappy I was with Fred. Dad got mad at me. He told me that I needed to leave that situation. I would ruin the best thing I had...my family. I would lose my kids. He knew how important my children were to me, that they were everything to me and he respected me as a mother. He often told me I was a good mother. I followed Dad's advise and got out of that job.

When I was first married to Fred, I called Dad crying. I told him I never see my husband, how unhappy I was about that. I expected him to feel sorry for me and side with me. Instead, he yelled at me. He told me to grow up. He told me that I got married and I had to live with that decision. I needed to support my husband and let him provide for me. I will never forget that. Dad would listen to me, but he always reserved the right to tell me when I was wrong. He wouldn't mince words, either.

Roberto is like that. I will whine to him about something and he will tell it like it is, too. I like that. I don't like it when people try and spare my feelings and tell me stupid stuff just to make me feel better. I have always been honest with myself and I appreciate it when people are honest with me as well.

I always felt safe with Dad. I knew he would protect me. I knew he would give me the shirt off his back. When he passed away, he waited until I could be there. He held on to the very last second until I came into the room. I held him in my arms as his spirit left his body. He waited for me and I will never forget that.

Towards the end of his life, I made a point of telling him I loved him when I spoke with him. One time I called and said, "Dad, remember that I love you." He had alzheimer's and forgot things all the time. He started to chant, " I remember. I remember." in a sing song voice that was pretty funny. But I knew that he was losing his mind and if he was in his right mind, he would NEVER do anything that silly.

I used to call him "old man" when I addressed him and he thought that was funny. I would say things like, "Listen, old man..." and he would laugh out loud. He loved it when we would banter and I would come back with something witty. I learned about sarcasm and witty repartee from him. He was awesome. I miss him a lot.