Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world.

Special Treat – Joyce Hernandez

Oct 9, 2006

We have a delightful new writer to welcome to the fold today.  Joyce Hernandez becomes writer # 364 for Storytime Tapestry.  Please welcome her in the traditional Storytime way.

Going to visit my Father

by Joyce Hernandez

Going to visit my Dad was always an adventure. Over the years he lived in many different cities all over San Diego County. Every other weekend he'd come to get my brother & I.

The adventure would start.

My Dad never told us his plans for the weekend. He'd always leave us guessing. It drove me crazy.

"Where are we going Dad?"

his reply, "Kalamazoo"

"No Dad, there is no such place."

 his reply "Yes, there is."

Okay fine, Where are we going Dad?

 his reply "Timbuktu"

Come on, Dad TELL ME !!

No matter what I said he'd leave us guessing until we got there and he could hide it no more.

This drove me insane.

 I would keep on talking, always trying to squeeze it out of him.

But did Dad ever give in ? NOPE !

He did this as soon as I could talk.

Dad was full of fun.

Wherever we went, he had as much fun as we did.

IF NOT MORE.

He was like a big kid. Always fun, always smiling and joking around.

Since he moved quite a bit over the years we got explore the whole county. New neighborhood's once a year or so. Once he lived above an ethnic Italian Sandwich Shop & Bakery.

That was the coolest place I thought. You could smell the dough for the breads cooking at all hours. An old Italian couple owned the shop. They were so nice.

They imported many things from Italy. Everything on the menu was great. I have not had the sandwiches like it to this day. I guess I have to go to Italy to taste that special blend of oil & seasonings again.

My Aunt found an old address book of my Grandmother's once. That was the first place we went to visit. It was on Adams Ave in San Diego.

I remembered the brick building with white paint,now has been restored to the original red brick.

 The Italian sandwich shop is long gone. An Irish Pub has taken residence. The apartments are still above.

It brought back memories just walking around the building. I remembered shelves built into the walls in the apartment. Large old fashioned windows that looked out onto the street. A  back entrance with old fashioned  narrow wooden stairs. So many memories.

Another year my Dad lived in Mission Beach right behind the boardwalk.

Now that was fun. I remember being able to smell the ocean. Roller skating down the boardwalk all the way along the beach.

Mission Beach & the boardwalk with photo. You can actually "walk" along the boardwalk 2 1/2 miles with this link.

http://web.tampabay.rr.com/gothere/gothere/Boardwalk/

The first time he took me to Disneyland I was one year old.

That would follow every year of my life until I was 18.

He never lost enthusiasm.

He loved the old ride, , Adventure Thru Inner Space   It was a dark ride that pretended to shrink the rider smaller and smaller down to microscopic size. Until they announced they do not dare shrink you any further. They used have signs posted as you got in line for the ride saying "Visit the World of the Atom"

They had a giant microscope that showed the carts that you rode in shrinking smaller and smaller until they have shrunk down to nothing.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_past_Disneyland_attractions

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adventure_Thru_Inner_Space

The first time we went on this ride with my little brother, poor thing he got scared thinking we were really shrinking.

 Many years later when I was a teen, my Dad called me before he picked us up telling me there was a problem with his Chevy Blazer but he would still be over soon. He called back when he was on his way and after several minutes trying to make me guess.

He told me he took the Blazer through World of the Atom, right away I said, "Okay Dad, so you got one of those mini blazer's didn't you?"

"Nope", he said "I drove it through World of the Atom."

Sure enough he drove up in a mini blazer, chosen of course in the exact same color.( probably for the sole reason of being able to say he drove through "World of The Atom.")

Thanks to Dad, I know where all the cool restaurants are.

All the fun sites, everything you'd want to do around San Diego.

I know because my Dad took me there. Thanks to my Dad, I like all different types of ethnic foods. He had me trying them out since I was small.

I've been to every mountain in the area. Palomar, Julian and Big Bear.

Every arcade, several parks, miniature golfing, baseball games, you name it in San Diego. My Dad took me there and to several in Orange County as well.

As I got older Dad would drive me crazy with his joking around. Sometimes it seemed I had to be the adult. I loved him just the same. Everybody liked my Dad. He made everyone smile.

He was so happy when I had my oldest son, Ben. I never knew he loved babies too. As soon as Ben was a few months old,

(no longer small enough where he could break, my Dad said)

he was holding him, playing with him, buying him toys, the works.

At 6 months old he took pride in buying him his first  L. A Dodger's jacket. ( My Dad's favorite team, of course)

Ben was like a new toy to play with for Dad.

I didn't think about it at the time but my son Ben is just like my Dad.

 Always happy, smiling, charming, everyone likes him.

When Ben was small my Dad came over often, even though he worked in Huntington Beach and I lived in Oceanside. The drive is not fun, or the traffic. I've done it many times. Dad never seemed to mind.

Late one night, or should I say early one morning. I heard a knock on the door. It was 2 am. Right away fear ran through my body. No one came to my door at this hour. The fear became stronger when I asked who it was and heard my Mother's voice. I knew something must have happened. My Mom always went to bed at 8:30 PM. I opened the door to see my Mother had been crying for hours.

I could not breathe.

I could not move.

She just cried and hugged me tight.

Finally after what seemed like forever,

 I asked what happened.

She blurted out. Your Dad is dead.

She'd known for hours and did not know how to tell me.

She finally got up the courage and could wait no longer.

My first words were "How?" I did not believe it, it wasn't possible.

I had talked to him that day. He was on his way over. He was always late. It was no big deal, he'd call in a few hours. I was wrong. I couldn't grasp it. He couldn't be dead. He was 35 years old.

My brain went into shock, I could not hear. My mind was racing.

My Dad's Navy buddy & roommate had came home from work to find

the bathroom door locked, no noise, nothing. About an hour later he knocked to ask if my Dad was okay. He got no answer. He tried knocking louder. Still nothing. Finally, he knelt down peeking under the door to see if the door locked by mistake or if anyone was in there.

He must have seen blood and my Dad's body lying on the floor.

He called 911 but it was too late.

My Dad had a heart attack at age 35, induced by cocaine.

He'd been working two jobs. His day job in the Navy, and the graveyard shift several days during the week at a local hospital as an X- Ray Tech. The private sector paid much better than the Navy.

He started using Cocaine to stay awake. He must have gotten hooked.

I had no idea. No one did.

My Father was a large man, big boned 5'10. At the time he weighed close to 240. His heart just couldn't take it.

He'd been depressed for a few months. He never stopped loving my Mother, he wanted them to get back together. I never knew he was depressed. I would have has him take leave, spent more time him.

I would have told him I loved him. I would have kept him from using cocaine. I know I could not have stopped him but I cant help but think over the what if's.

My Mom later told me he had called her a few times that week.

That she had talked him. They were getting along but that he wanted them to get back together. It wasn't going to happen.

My Mom grew up fast. They married at 16 because she became pregnant with me.

They loved each other.

They tried.

They were just too young.

It was too hard.

My Mom grew up, while my Dad was still a kid inside.

After a few years of carrying the responsibility of a family alone, she could take it no more. They separated when I was four years old. Tried reconciling several times, finally divorcing four years later. My Dad never got over it. He dated. He met a nice lady.

When she got too close, he pushed her away.

He still had hopes of getting back together with my Mother.

I don't blame my Mom for their divorce.

I never knew the truth about the divorce until I was much older. As

an adult I can see why she gave up. I don't think anyone would have stayed.

Many years have passed me by since then.

My Father died in 1987.

The day before my son's first birthday. He was on his way to house that day. He had told me he was taking us out for dinner and a trip to Toys R Us. He wanted to let Ben pick out his presents.

Ever the child, he wanted to help him so he could play too.

The day of my son's birthday we instead planned the wake, funeral and burial.

The wake and funeral were held in El Toro, Ca. The base he was stationed at the time and is now closed.The burial at Arlington, VA in the Arlington National Cemetery near his father.

http://www.arlingtoncemetery.org/historical_information/index.html

I have three children now and have been married since 1995.

How I wish my Dad was here to see my children. I wish they could have met my father. How he would have enjoyed them.

I wish my husband could have met him. I know they would have got along.

I try to keep him alive by telling my children stories about their Grandfather. I tell them stories about things we did together.

I do many of those things with them. I keep his memory alive

 by taking them some of the place's he took me as a child.

He is my excuse for going to Disneyland every few years. I love it just like he did. I always will. As long as I am kicking my Dad will still be alive. Someday my children will grow up, if they marry and have children they will pass the stories on.

 In spite of his mistakes he taught me many things.

He read to me every night when my parents were together from age 1. No matter how many times I asked him to read it again.

He'd read stories over and over until I fell asleep.

He answered every question I had, no matter if it was in the middle of a movie or if he was busy doing something else.

 He had patience for me no matter what.

He taught me how to have fun, no matter what is going on in my life.

To treasure every second.

His years in college taught me how to study .I watched him cram for tests. If he got an A- he mad because it wasn't a A+. He tried harder each time. He graduated at the top of his class.

He taught me the dangers of life, how you can lose it if your not careful.

Also that nothing is worth the loss of a life.

I miss my Dad very much. Sometimes I have dreams he is still alive and he's over for dinner playing with my kids. When I wake up I wish it was real, but just maybe he was here playing with them in their dreams.

 Joyce Hernandez

sdgirljoyce@aol.com