Learning from Dad

"Live life to the fullest, not just its length." - Linda Clark

Why grace, you may ask? Because … imagine a world with more kindness, more respect, and more grace. For a moment, transport yourself there and imagine how magnificent life would be.

Let's examine…

How challenging is it to be graceful? My dad was a gentleman. I remember when he used to court Mum. Boy, it was something to see! Nothing was out of reach for him, and everything had to be right. I remember spending time with him as he got ready for dinner with the queen who had his heart.

Mum had just returned from Italy, marking their first date together since her departure. She looked glorious, and people noticed.

“How do I look, kid?"

"Fine, Dad. You look excellent, really!”

I was 9 or so; I had no idea what was good or awful, except for what I'd seen in those '70s sitcom reruns. Like “I Love Lucy".

He combed his hair every which way it would go, only to eventually comb it back to its original form. He must've tried 25 ties, only to pick the first one.

At the mirror, he turned right, then left, then backwards, looking over his shoulder gangster-style, cigarette dangling from his mouth.

I laughed and laughed and laughed. He was amused and winked at me from time to time.

Then again:

“How do I look, kid?"

“Fine, Dad, you look fantastic!"

“You sure?"

“Of course, Dad. You do, seriously."

“Yeah, sure. You'd say anything…but I don't know about these shoes.”

“What's wrong with them?"

“I don't know, that's the problem. I think I prefer the brown and white ones better. They go with the coat nicely. See?”

And he turns from the mirror, changing one shoe while leaving the other one on the other foot.

“There. Which one?”

Frozen with indecision, I must have had the look of a deer caught in headlights, because he just ignored my would-be answer and proclaimed, "Yep! These are the ones! Thanks, kid!”

I was relieved, as if my team had just won the championships…

Grace. He was a graceful man and demonstrated it with the ladies at every chance he had. To him, being a man didn't mean being tough, loud, or commanding. It was to be suave, charming and kind.

My mum saw those qualities, and to her, they were irresistible. Just like he planned. Or maybe she did.

I grew up by the beach, and interestingly enough, those were times i could talk to Dad heart to heart. He knew that as well, so those were times well spent. In retrospect, remembering how life was back then would be a mix of nostalgia, lessons learned and the pain of growing up, always the pain of growing up.

I spent my formative years in Mar del Plata, a coastal town. Dad travelled a lot, so I had a lot of time on my hands, especially on summer days when school was out.

Pelicans everywhere, seagulls too, just like the one that stole my half-consumed hot dog from my flimsy fingers. Just like that. Small win.

But when he was home, I had a need to behave. That would earn me his company and most importantly, his wisdom. I felt lucky in that regard. I just sat in silence and listened about other towns he visited. Or other countries, where his job took him. But maybe because he was my dad, I always found him fascinating. And he was an excellent swimmer, unlike me. He would like to tell us stories about the wilderness and some close calls he had with the local wildlife of whatever place he was in, and we were so enthralled with the stories we would remember little about what we had for supper at all, much to Mum's displeasure. But all in all, there were good times, wholesome times, the kind of intimate moments you'd hold dear to your heart.

In our society today, we seem to have forgotten about grace. In fact, if you ask anyone young enough to understand its meaning, they wouldn't be able to describe it. They would mumble something like “what women have” or some similar nonsense. But in reality, not a clue.

Old ladies get amazingly impressed when a young man cedes his seat on the trolley or keeps a door open for their entrance. The smiles on their faces tell a profound story of gratitude and appreciation that money cannot buy.

The same happens with an elderly man, a grandfather who has experienced better days. We will be there too, soon enough, and our appreciation will remind us we are all one in this cyclical movement called life. A lesson my dad taught me.

I was lucky enough to witness grace firsthand, learn its attributes and enjoy its rewards without knowing.