My Dad’s love

“Dad” is the second word I learned when I was a baby.

My Dad is sitting on a couch in the living room at a 70-degree angle, but trying to sit upright. In front of him is his laptop, where his half-closed eyes are hypnotized, and forming a small frown. “Bzzzt,” Dad’s phone vibrates. He gently grabs it and puts it next to his ear. I can tell it’s a work call because he immediately gets up. Dad walks on the terrace with his barely audible footsteps. His eyes are staring at the floor. And his left arm starts to sway slowly.

Minutes pass; his eyes start to roll and as he faces the lagoon with ducks and small fishes that are in front of our beach house.

And suddenly, Dad and I are making eye contact. He smiles at me, and so do I. A few minutes later, the phone call ends. He walks straight up to me with his extended arms and asks, “Vale, do you want to enter the pool?”

“I would love to,” I say while hugging him.

“3, 2, 1!” I scream with my brightest eyes while holding hands with my Dad. We are a step inside the fresh pool water. I laugh, he laughs too. “Ya!” I say while nodding. We breathe in and we dive without separating our hands. Drops of water fall down our faces. With my wet lips, I give him a kiss on my dad’s cheek. I giggle.

After two hours, I see my Dad again with his phone next to his ear. He is sitting on the couch with his head being supported by his hand. He frowns and gets up. Dad paces through the terrace while breathing heavily. His eyes transfixed on the ducks. His soft red shirt flutters in the wind.

Suddenly, he looks at me. I push up my cheeks and crow’s feet are formed. My smile from ear to ear lightens his dark eyes. He shuts his phone and asks me, “Vale you want to ride a bike.” “Yes!” I say with an exciting voice.

My Dad is the best father a person could wish for. Not all Dads commit themselves to what my Dad is “family always needs to be united. Family always comes before work.”