by Henry CruzFor Papi Abel, my SuperheroThe hardest thing for me in life is to stay strong. Quitting is the easy part that leaves a permanent scar. But how can I stay strong without my biggest support system? That was my uncle Abel or as I called him “Papi Abel”. I have both parents in my life, but when I was younger they would always work early and could not take care of me until late afternoon so they would leave my brother and me with my aunt and uncle. I called my uncle my dad as a term of respect and acknowledgment that he raised me. His two sons and two daughters became my brothers and sisters because of the love and support they have always given me. Their mom has become my mom because of the unconditional she has given me—like Papi Abel. I remember being younger and he would take my siblings and me to Toys R’ Us because it brought him great joy to see our faces light up with a new toy that he would buy for us. During my teen years, in which I became rebellious and stayed out late, he would never get mad at me but try to understand. He made sure anywhere I went or anything I did, had to be with reason. There was never a time where he would yell at me, my brother or my sisters. If anything, he would be upset with himself. However, to him, his family was his happiness which made it difficult for him to stay upset. I noticed I became more attached to him when I had surgery for my appendix and I was not able to move without help. He would wake up in the middle of the night to help me with any little thing such as get me a cup of water, make sure I was covered with blankets or had enough pillows and he would tell me the pain was only temporary. The days he took care of me, I was out of work for a while because I could not do any physical work so I would spend my days with him. Anywhere he would go, I would go with him. He would make sure I did not lift a finger till I was better. My Papi Abel was my biggest support system because he was so understanding and so reasonable. Anything that came his way, he would make the best of it. He was never a violent person and preferred to spend his days with his family rather than going out with friends. Till this day, I will never understand how a person can pour their entire soul, love, and energy into someone without wanting anything in return. Because of him, I no longer consider hate as one of my emotions. How could I “hate” when there is so much in life to appreciate and love? Becoming so hateful towards something or someone becomes exhausting. Being loving and appreciative for the people and things in your life creates a stronger self-reliance and a stronger relationship with those around you. From the moment he discovered he had kidney cancer, he embraced it with a smile and told my brothers and sisters and me that everything will be okay. He knew the consequences behind it, yet was ready to face them with a full heart. I could only imagine the feelings he was bottling inside. His TRUE feelings were vague and hidden behind his amazing smile. The days in the hospital, only praying for survival were the hardest. At the time, I was attending school, working part time and I was driving around with just a permit. I was not an expert driver but I had to pick up on it quick so I could visit my uncle and take my aunt to see him. In addition, he left me responsible for moving his car for street parking despite being a rookie at driving. Till this day, I still hold his car keys in his honor. He used to take me to school, to work or even to accompany him for his own errands. At times, I catch myself day dreaming of us going for one more car ride…anywhere. I imagine him picking me up in his blue ford expedition and asking me to get in so we could go somewhere. I can still hear his voice clearly in my head as if he became my personal conscience. When I am alone at night heading home, I feel as if the moon is a representation of his smile to let me know he is always with me. During my toughest times and when I need him the most, he was always there. He was my real-life superhero. Anything he did, he did it with a smile. I did not know all the problems in his life but when he told me some of them, he would tell me everything will be okay. Every dream that I have of him, I write down so I will never forget. My sister reminds me to live by his words because although is he physically gone, whatever we do, he is doing with us. However, when I think about it more deeply, I try to put myself in his shoes. When him and my father left Mexico to come to the United States, I can only imagine the emotional pain and sacrifices they made for us to have a better life. And I never want to let that sacrifice go in vain. I embrace it in remembrance of him and that he never gave up on me, so how can I give up on him? My Papi Abel gave up everything he knew in order to come to a country where he did not know anything and with very little money in his pocket. When I remember the most recent memories of us smiling and laughing, it brings me some comfort because I was blessed to have a person who was so pure of love. I was so blessed to have had him play the role of a father, other half, guidance and best friend. For my family, he has also played that role for his own children, my brothers and sisters. Every time we were around him, time froze. Every time he would make us laugh, our problems no longer existed. All the hugs he would give us took us to another world of peace. When I remember his voice, his presence is near me. When I feel the need to give up, his love carries the negativity away. I long for the day when I will see him again. My mind becomes flooded with memories of him and I drown. My sister always reminds me of a quote that she read in a book that states “it is your blood running through my veins, tell me how I am supposed to forget”. I fight this emotional pain of missing him every day. I can never forget him because of how much love he gave me. He has taught me don’t cry to give up but cry to keep going. Despite actually having my biological father in my life, he would also take on that role whenever my dad was absent. When I would call him dad in front of my biological father, there was no awkwardness or insults, but only mutual respect. They both understood the bond I have with each one of them. My Papi Abel has taught me how a true man should be, a true gentleman: loving, polite, respectful, ambitious, determined, hopeful, and overall, humble. The scar I have from his departure will never heal because I spend the rest of my days missing him. I continued to learn more about his illness and discovered an orange ribbon represents patients who unfortunately did not survive kidney cancer. I wear an orange bracelet on my right wrist representing the cancer he had. The color itself now has become embedded into my beliefs. I feel as if I represent my superhero. If I had one last thing to tell him, I would tell him that I will not let him down. I would also tell him thank you for being a big part of my life and for giving me pure love and thank you for creating a stronger relationship I have with my brothers and sisters. No matter how much it hurts, I will continue to make him proud until I see him again.
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