Hard-To-Open Bottles Openers, Toilet Seat Lifters, Grill Masters and Late-at-Night Text Messages Senders: Men

Sometimes is good to honor those men who make a difference in your life. As a woman, I found that men in all ages and races have been there for me when needed- and sometimes when their non presence was needed as well. I can't imagine my life without the men that made me the way I am right now. Emotionally speaking, I have a great group of men I do want to honor. But not all male human being are worth to be called men- and those, honestly, don't matter. However, I will talk about those few who earned respect based on merit- and I am picking few right now.
I wouldn't be the person who I am to date if it wasn't for my dad. He's one of my favorite men of all the time. I have countless experiences and stories about my dad. I know I'm not the princess type of daughter to my dad's eyes and I always felt like the boy-ish type of girl who had to demonstrate academic success in order to be appreciated- my dad is a great man, regardless.
From walking, to eating, to hard punishments, to running, to our first dog, to our second, third, fourth....tenth dog, to trips to the mountains, to days at the beach, to trips to the port to pick fresh fish, to biking lessons, to bad scores in school and scary lectures of what I should do, to my rebellious "don't bother me" attitude as teenager,  to celebrations for getting into college, to getting my drivers license,to yelling at me when I wrecked the car, to working together, to teaching me how to rotate the tires of my car alone when my friends were partying, to talks in the deepest sad moments of my life, to blames for moving to another country, to helping me in getting my first car, to sneak out cassettes and CDs of great bands from his collection, to giving me the dirty look when I met a guy, to holding a conversation to tell him I was getting married, to talks late at night with a Corona beer...to discovering a friend. That's what my dad means to me in the 25 years I lived so far. I know I won't understand his ways most of the time (and yes, right now I'm crying as I write) but the older I get, the more I understand his ways and his unconditional love to me, to my sisters, to my mom. My papa taught me the concept of family not by lecturing me, but being there to help me and celebrate my achievements with me. I needed him to open a bottle that I've been struggling to open, and he'd open it as if he was rubbing his fingers on silk.
I love dad's grilling Sundays. My dad whom I seen since always grilling with abuelo and the uncles, now does it alone- No doubt that being away from home has a sour taste. He's my grill master, my mechanic specialist, the one who yells at me, the one who has no fears to hurt you as long as he tells you the crude truth to your face. The one who drives several miles (and sick) just to say Happy Birthday. He's the one who suffered the most seeing me move away. He's the emperor of his empire, the Benitez empire.

Photo 01. Dad, my older sister and me at the port

Photo 02. My dad, my friend

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