Father Roy

Father's Day was yesterday and I started thinking about my father, Roy. One of the biggest reasons I got into real estate was because of him.

Roy raised his kids with an old school mentality. While my mom Rita was more Americanized, it was Roy that was the disciplinarian. He worked odd jobs to go through college, including security jobs. He graduated with a double bachelors and went on to work at a bank making great money. He ruled the house with an iron fist. I'd like to remember specific examples but it's difficult. The treatments that I went through for my illness messed up my memory worse than what it already was. I remember bits and pieces, but only if reminded of a specific act or image. But I remember hating him and admiring him at the same time.

He was tough but smart. His work ethic was amazing, and he made sure that everything was done his way. I remember praying to God to kill him for all the beatings he dished out, but I can't remember any of the beatings now. I remembered there being a method to his madness that I disliked but respected. After the divorce we saw him from time to time, mostly on the weekends and holidays. As time went on, I started to notice his armor cracking. He's so much different now than he was before. He's kinder, gentler, and a God-fearing man. I have little respect for the man he is now and much more for what he was.

Now that I'm older, I don't want the kind and gentler Bible-thumper. I want the beast. The guy that could win any argument, sell any item, and put fear into Jesus himself. He's a shell of what he once was and it's sad to see. For example, when I graduated from college and he was retired, he wanted me to do business with him. He took me to some company that he was invited to join. At first look, I could tell that it was a pyramid scheme. The words they were using and the presentation was a dead give-away. When I told him that it was a scam, he denied it and tried to argue with me using the same presentation and buzz words that they used. I looked at him and remember thinking, "The father I know wouldn't be falling for this. What's wrong with him?" He got old, I think, and maybe that's what it all comes down to.

One of the big reasons I got into real estate was to compete with him. I wanted to make more money and have more properties than him. But I wanted to compete against the man I knew then, not the guy I know now. He's feeble. He's old. His eyes are going. He's easily influenced. He uses the word "love" alot. I hate to see him like this and I don't like talking to him for too long. The only subjects we ever discuss now are what I'm up to and his past. It's the only things I'm interested in speaking to him about.

I remember writing a poem for him on the Father's Day before this one. It detailed everything I could remember about him that made him great in my eyes. All the things I hated him for as a kid but admire now. I was hoping to make him remember who he is and be the man I remembered him to be. He loved the poem, but I don't think he understood what I was trying to tell him. He'll always be my father and, like my mom, there will always be something there. But, in my pursuit of success, it's a shame that I don't have the old Roy to give me a good run for my money. Sometimes, it's better to be who you are than to be something you're not. Never know who's watching.