David Williamson
Ms. J. Aguilar
English 1301
September 9,2014

The Day I Met Him

A month ago I was put in a situation I never thought would come my way, I met my father. He had flown to Dallas to see me before my football season would start. That day was one I will never forget and never intend to forget. It was full of new experiences and an assurance that my father had acknowledged my existence, though I knew I had many doubts.
“Klunk” The trunk closes as I take my father’s luggage out of the car. The summer morning was dreary with clouds and the air was damp, like a day will be in the heat of Texas. I had been looking forward to this day for 16 years. But as the day started, the realization that a man who hasn’t made an effort to see me since the day I was born is going to meet me finally, sunk in. I realized that we were both just children on the first day of school to each other, quiet and shy.
We had finally left the airport and my mind had a million things running through it, but all I could mutter to my father was “Nice day today”. The awkwardness was oozing through the both of us, like soap from a sponge. After about 10 minutes of driving through downtown Dallas, my father finally muttered out “I guess you are wondering where I have been all this time”. “Well kind of” I replied, lying through my teeth. I did not want to admit the constant wonder I had of him, the overbearing curiosity of why he left, why he didn’t keep in touch, and why he avoided contact with me until now.
He began to tell me about his life from the very beginning. He said he was born in America but his parents were immigrants from Pakistan. He had lived on the east coast from his birth until is early twenties. He moved to Texas for a job opportunity, and that is where he met my mother. He said my mom was unlike any other women he had met. He had been with my mom in secret from his family, due to religious differences. He had been with her for 3 years until my mom became pregnant with me. Finally he asked my mom to marry him, and she said yes. But 3 months later, before the wedding, word got to his family and they forced him to return home or risk loss of inheritance.
I remember how the light, from the morning sun, shined in my eyes right as he said that, and how it made me look irritated. But in reality I was feeling sympathetic and angry for assuming that all this time he was avoiding me to escape from the responsibility of a child. But instead he was just being held back from me to appease his family. I remember how his eyes began to water as the words “I really have missed you” slipped from his mouth.
We were still on the road, stuck in traffic. It was amazing how in an instant my entire thought of a man could change. I slowly began to open up to him, telling him what I do I school, the sports I play, my friends. We both kept interrupting each other, because we both had so much to say. The only thing stopping us from speaking was the breaths we had to take between words.
The car stopped at a little Italian restaurant in downtown Dallas, I don’t remember the name but all I remember was my father’s faint attachment to it, as if it was very important to him. We ate our food and left, again a tear rushed his cheat. I could tell he didn’t want this day to end. We again began to speak, but this time it was a much more sorrowful kind of talk, like when a parent sees his or her child off to college.
We arrived back to the airport where my mom was waiting to get me. I handed all of my father’s suitcases back to him from the car, looked him in his eye. He brought me in for a goodbye hug he brought me in closer and whispered “I don’t know when I will see you again, but I want you to know it’s not my choice to be away”. He releases me, and with one final “I love you”, he was gone. I watched his plane leave the runway as my eyes began to water. I will never forget that one and only day with my father.