Atop the man's shoulders at St. Mark's Square, Venice. Photograph courtesy mi Madre.
My father and I are love personified. If I am love in action, he is love at rest. I could subtract myself from the compliment, but then it wouldn’t be us, and I know the futility of feigning humility at the cost of honesty. Of all the energies in the world, it is in his calm that I feel home.
“Ishi, be courageous,” said his voice over a long distance call, when shit hit the fan. Honestly, the alternative never occurs to me, but his reminder helped. I am always courageous, because I have his love, his kindness, his generosity, his patience, his humility and his grace to remind me of who I really am, and what my world will be.
Words are just words Daddy, but I love you so much. Happy Happy Birthday!