A Father's Day

When I was growing up in my native Igbo land, "Fathers Day," as we all tend to embrace it with the emotional attachments established here in the United States for our offsprings to appreciate the role of fatherhood in their upbringing, never minding the tedious work to raise a child to adulthood, the word love was Greek to our ears. I don't remember telling my dad "I love you, dad" on any occasion.

Last Sunday, June 17, 2007, was something special. My teenage daughter had always wished me a Happy Fathers Day, but this time around, precocious, big and bold, had decided to write me a piece telling me how important I've been in her life, and how she appreciates my presence in the cult of true fatherhood. No occasion is really big deal to me even dating back to celebrating Christmas when special meals were made - the rice and chicken dinner, merry-making and all the seasonal activities that came along with it - I was touched when my daughter told me how much she loved me regardless of my strictness trying to raise her to be a good girl and a product of sound upbringing. My daughter writes;

"Dad,

Happy father's day! I love you! I want you to know how much you are appreciated. Thank you for being here. I know sometimes you get a little frustrated with me, but thank you for not giving up on me. As my father you are very much needed in my life. I hope as your daughter that I am needed in yours. Thank you for your continued support and patience. I love you again. I love you dad!"

I'm not really sure if I was able to express my opinion and wrote in this pattern at my age while growing up. I love you, too, girl!

Apparently, she paid attention, though daddy's girl, I am very proud of her, and she has delivered. Straight A student, point guard at Morningside High School and VP of the Student's Leadership Forum, she has propelled herself to the forefront without much from me even though teenagers would do their own thing rebelling from the status quo. I must confess, it bothered me especially in an era of cultural revolution.

On Sunday, June 17, 2007, Norshay (my daughter) had hidden what she had for me. She brought out this white envelope and had asked me "what are we going to do today, it's fathers Day, dad?"

"What do you wanna do?" I told her.

"Maybe we should go and have lunch and watch a movie," she said.

"I think a movie will be fine, I don't know about having lunch," I said.

"Ok, going to the movie is fine, what do you want to see? she asked.

"I don't really know! How about Ocean's Thirteen, the sequel that plays George Clooney in the leading role?" I responded.

"O yeah! You mean Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Don Cheadle, Bernie Mac, Andy Garcia and Ellen Barkin? I would like to see Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer.

Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer is an adventure, comedy, science fiction movie, the kind of stuff kids like to watch. I'm not into science fiction and all that animation, but I agreed to go see Fantastic Four, what she had in mind to please her quest of how much she loves her father.

Well, like it goes, we drove to Magic Johnson Theaters and got on line to purchase our tickets. Looking at the screen, she changed her mind at the box office requesting to see Ocean's Thirteen. We purchased the tickets, got into the lobby and bought some popcorns. She likes 'em buttered which is scarry due to my cholestrol and age. You can't hang with teenagers or else your ancestors will be knocking on your back door, if you know what I mean.

Sitting on one of the backrow seats, the feature movie began to play and Brad Pitt had surfaced which I only remembered. I dozed off all through the movie until I was punched on my ribs to get up - "the movie is over, dad," she said to me.

"Did you like the movie?" I asked.

"It was very good," she said.

Next time, in occasions like this, I will invoke my ancestors to provide me with kola nuts in order to stay awake to let my daughter know I can hang.