Today's Marc and Angel Hack Life blog post touches upon gratitude. Thanksgiving is two days away and the subject of being thankful usually comes up. So today I am thankful for my father and his thoughtfulness. Below is just a snapshot of how much he thought about us at home. Although I am writing about material things, it is the man behind the sentiment that I am recalling.
In a previous post I mentioned that my father was a merchant marine seaman. What comes to my mind are the gifts that he used to bring home for us. From India he brought my sister and I slippers. Here is a funny story about those slippers: They were beautiful but, they had slippery bottoms. Going upstairs was no problem. But I fell down the stairs every time I came back down. You would have thought that after the first fall I would have learned but, I didn't. I didn't want to take them off. That's how beautiful they were. My father thought about me and my little feet.
My father would also voyage to the Republic of Panama and one time he brought home carved leather schoolbags for my sister and I and a handbag for my mother. He thought about how I could carry my books.
Perfume was another gift that my father brought home to us. He was the first and only man who ever gave me perfume. I don't know what country he brought the scents from, but we wore the fragrances proudly. Daddy bought this perfume for us: we were growing up. Our perfumes came beveled bottled, tasseled, small and large. Each and every one exquisite.
From Japan my father brought us silk pajamas. Beautiful artwork accompanied the feel of silk that was our sleeping gear. He thought about how comfortable we would be sleeping in luxury.
As I look back I want to thank my father for thinking of us and exposing us those special gifts that made us feel special. Even though we were young and did not necessarily appreciate what we had, I look back and I see a man who thought enough about us to expose us to a smidgen of what he saw and experienced as he traveled the world. Thank you Pai. I love you.
No comments:
Post a Comment