Kassiquan

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Exodus 20:12

“Honor your father and your mother that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God gives you” (Exodus 20:12)

Benigno Virgilio Rodriguez y Suarez, my father was born in Utuado, Puerto Rico on January 31, 1930.  Had my Dad lived, he would be 89 years old today.  However, he died on July 2, 1985 of cardiac arrest due to Emphysema which included an unknown lung infection that his physician was not able to identify.  He was only 55.  My Dad always told us that he was born on Three Kings Day, January 6.  We grew up believing this until I discovered his birth registration on the Internet while working on the Rodriguez Family Tree.

My Dad was not open about his family, his childhood or his feelings.  What I saw and understood as a child growing up, my Dad was not always content; he was always right and could never admit when he was wrong.  Dad struggled to be successful, he fought hard to be successful and when situations did not meet his expectations he would get angry.  Money was always an issue; we hardly had.  What money my Dad did make he would gamble hoping to get more.  But Dad would lose, come home drunk and angry and take it out on my mother.  My Dad would beat my mother for other things that did not go or seem right for him, too.  My Dad would beat me and my brother in anger if the tasks he gave us to do were not done correctly, according to him.

My Dad and I never had a “father-son” relationship.  The year before my Dad’s death, he got really sick.  I moved out at 19 and I never told my Dad where I lived until after he was hospitalized.  Dad was released from the hospital with a portable oxygen tank.  I invited my Dad to see where I lived and when my Dad finished touring my house he said “I’m proud of you.  You did really well.”  These words were the most sincere feelings from a man I thought I would never hear.  A few months later in June my Dad was back in ICU when his physician shared with me that he had more than just emphysema; a lung infection they could not diagnose.  My Dad did not have long and his physician confirmed how my Dad really felt about me (my Dad could not tell me).  I decided to give Dad his Fathers’ Day card early.  In it I wrote my feelings, how I felt about him growing up, what I wished we had, that I truly forgive him and that I loved him, “You are my Dad.”  A few weeks later, my Dad was rushed back to the hospital where he died.  I buried my Dad, and as the casket was lowered I cried…I cried like a baby.  I loved my Dad.