My father

My father was a great painter, but his responsibilities, as a father of four kids, did not give him any chance to continue as a painter. He used to work two jobs: a full time job from 7 am to 3 pm and a part time job in the evening. So, he did not have enough time or enough patience to communicate with us. He was neither talkative nor open in his emotions; rather he was a nervous and angry man.

Because all these reasons, I did not feel his love, care, and role in my life. Plus, I considered myself closer to my mother, loved her more, and enjoyed her conversations. She was a very talkative woman who was open in her emotions.

But all these facts did not prevent my father from being a great father. I will never forget that before I even knew the alphabet he brought Comics, sit with me on the floor and point out the pictures while he was telling me the story. He made time to sit with me to tell me the creation story and stories of the prophets. He was insisting we sit together at the table to eat our dinner every day at 3:30 pm between his two jobs. In the beginning of the weekend, he used to put us on the bed in front the T.V. to watch a movie while he was serving us making our food and hot drinks. Every weekend, he used to take me and my sister to the zoo, downtown, or visit my aunt. He used to take me to the Mosque every Friday for prayer. I still remember the first time I went to the Alexandria national museum and the castle of Qaitbay on the Mediterranean Sea. It was when he took me there. Once a year in Ramadan, he was taking us shopping for new clothes. He bought me my first book (Prophets Stories for children). I loved painting after him and I loved reading after I found his huge library that my mother hid in the attic.

When I got married, had kids, and realized the responsibilities of a father, it was too late to appreciate him; because he died four months after I had my first baby.

I was alone in the hospital when the doctor told me:

-          Your father died.

 I shocked because when he walked to the hospital was not very sick, and we thought he will stay a couple of nights and then come back to home again. Thirty minutes before, I asked him in the intensive care:

-          Do you want me to bring anything to you from home?

He told me:

-          No, it is just two days then I will be home, God’s will.

I remembered an Arabic poem that says “Who does not get glee of the life is stupid.”
But my father was not stupid. Yes, he did not have a car, cell phone, or even home phone. He did not party, travel, or took nice vacations. Also, he was not eater, even though before he got Stomach ulcer. He delayed all these enjoyments until he would retire. But he died three months after his retirement.

That does not mean he did not enjoy his life. He enjoyed simple things, such as fishing, reading, watching old American movies, filling his role, doing his responsibilities, and completing his message. He really enjoyed the fruit of his work. I remember how he was proud of me when I published my first article in a magazine. He did not tell me anything. But I saw he took the magazine to his work to show it to his colleague.

Oh God, forgive my dad and have mercy on him.