After getting completely dressed, I made my way into the kitchen. I opened the door to the refrigerator. I was so hungry and thirsty that I was eating directly from it. While holding a stick of butter and some hot dog franks, I ran to one of the kitchen cabinets and took out a frying pan. With desperation, I turned on the gas stove to the highest heat possible and smothered the pan with butter. I threw in the franks and began to prep the bread with mayonnaise and mustard. Right when I was about to serve myself, the front door slammed open.
“Hey Licho, make me something to eat – hey go to your restaurant and make me your special hot dogs – they are so delicious,”
It was my father; he was drunk and looking to start a fight with my mother. Lucky for both of us, my mother was not home.
My father then took out wads of money from his pant’s pocket and began to throw individual bills up in the air.
“I’m rich, I’m rich!” he yelled.
Hundred and twenty dollar bills fell to the floor.
I placed the hot dogs on a plate and told him to sit down on the chair of the kitchen table and eat.
If I thought I was hungry, my father must have been starving because he ate everything in one bite.
“Gibri these are better than the ones your mother makes. Give me some more,” he said.
I needed to figure out a way to take my father to the Sacred. The shower helped me gather clarity but my father arrived right at a moment when I was trying to pull myself together. I had no plan ready. But he did help me out in a huge way, he came to me so I did not need to go looking for him. Something that could have taken days.
As I cooked more franks for him, he sat at the kitchen table talking under his breath. As I tried to listen, I realized he was singing.
“No woman no cry, nooo woman nooo cry,” he gently sang with his head down and his right arm propping it from hitting the table.
As I served him more food I received one of my great ideas. I ran to the bedroom and grabbed my backpack and my spray-can. I walked back to the living room and spray-painted a circle on the couch. My dad was finishing up his food when he asked, “What’s that smell son, smells like paint.”
“Hey dad I cleared up the couch, come take a nap,” I said.
“Oh yeah,” he said smiling.
Page 34
I helped him up and started walking him to the couch.
“Hey dad, have you noticed that when you’re drunk, you speak your English perfectly,” I said.
“Yea man, I’m rich,” he said as I help him lay on the couch.
Right at the point of contact with the couch my dad disappeared into the doorway I had created on the couch and all I heard was my father yell, “Hay cabron, wait my money.”
I threw in some hotdogs, snacks and some water in my backpack. I jumped into the doorway as well.
Our destination - the Sacred’s space.
∞
Page 35
“Hey Licho, make me something to eat – hey go to your restaurant and make me your special hot dogs – they are so delicious,”
It was my father; he was drunk and looking to start a fight with my mother. Lucky for both of us, my mother was not home.
My father then took out wads of money from his pant’s pocket and began to throw individual bills up in the air.
“I’m rich, I’m rich!” he yelled.
Hundred and twenty dollar bills fell to the floor.
I placed the hot dogs on a plate and told him to sit down on the chair of the kitchen table and eat.
If I thought I was hungry, my father must have been starving because he ate everything in one bite.
“Gibri these are better than the ones your mother makes. Give me some more,” he said.
I needed to figure out a way to take my father to the Sacred. The shower helped me gather clarity but my father arrived right at a moment when I was trying to pull myself together. I had no plan ready. But he did help me out in a huge way, he came to me so I did not need to go looking for him. Something that could have taken days.
As I cooked more franks for him, he sat at the kitchen table talking under his breath. As I tried to listen, I realized he was singing.
“No woman no cry, nooo woman nooo cry,” he gently sang with his head down and his right arm propping it from hitting the table.
As I served him more food I received one of my great ideas. I ran to the bedroom and grabbed my backpack and my spray-can. I walked back to the living room and spray-painted a circle on the couch. My dad was finishing up his food when he asked, “What’s that smell son, smells like paint.”
“Hey dad I cleared up the couch, come take a nap,” I said.
“Oh yeah,” he said smiling.
Page 34
I helped him up and started walking him to the couch.
“Hey dad, have you noticed that when you’re drunk, you speak your English perfectly,” I said.
“Yea man, I’m rich,” he said as I help him lay on the couch.
Right at the point of contact with the couch my dad disappeared into the doorway I had created on the couch and all I heard was my father yell, “Hay cabron, wait my money.”
I threw in some hotdogs, snacks and some water in my backpack. I jumped into the doorway as well.
Our destination - the Sacred’s space.
∞
Page 35
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