My earthly father has been gone some twenty years. He resides in heaven now. Father’s day has never been the same for me since then.
My parents were not well off. My father as well as my mother, taught us to find joy in simple things, They taught us to value ourselves and people. They taught us that the best things in life do not have a dollar value. We had evrything we needed, of course it was not everything that we wanted, but our needs were more than met. I am proud of my mother and father, they have given us so much more than any inheritance can be measured. I once heard it said, that you know the true value of a man by who is at his bedside at the time of his death. This is true, but I would like to add that you also know the value of that man when he stands by your side, and is your loudest cheerleader, and adovcate.
My father loved his family, He was born in 1914 in Durango, Mexico. He was an only child. His mother died giving birth. His father quickly remarried in order to provide a mother figure for his son. His father was killed when he was months old. His new mother Consuelo brought him into Texas, and at the age of 3, and married a man named Margarito Barela. That is where our last name came from. This man died tragically. He was brought here to El Monte, California and grew up here, and became a Citizen.
My father’s mother was very hard on him. He grew up working from dawn to dusk. He finished his education as far as high school. He started his day early, worked, attended High School on most days, and then headed back to work, and did his house chores. He did everything for his mother. Despite her harshness and hardness with my father, he honored her, and never spoke a word against her. What we know of her is from his adoptive family, and the few stories he told, (never in a negative light).
My father’s dream was to box professionally. He was an amateur boxer (lightweight division) known as Cisco Kid and/or Barelita. He fought his way up, and was the top contender in the Olympic trials of 1932 in Europe. However, he suffered a terrible auto accident, where the vehicle tumbled down a ravine. My dad was hospitalized for about a year in General Hospital Los Angeles on a flatboard with braces, and was told he would never walk again. His place in the Olympic trials was given to the guy next in line, Nathan Bor, who had lost every fight aginst my dad, That guy took his place and went on to beat the contenders at the Olympic trials, and ultimately won a medal in the lightweight division. A dream snapped in a moment. Can you imagine lying there without being able to walk, knowing that someone else was living your dream. My dad never was bitter about it.
My good-natured father rose up from that adveristy, and two years later did walk again, and did serve his Country during World War II. As God would have it, while out in maneuvers and before being shipped overseas, he contracted Poison Ivy which somehow got into an open laceration on his legs, and he suffered severe ulcerations, which he carried with him until the 1970’s, He was severely ill, and being taken to the Army Hospital, when his Company or Unit, was told they were being assigned to a mission against the Germans. His company ws sent to Anzio Beachhead, you know the famous American Campaign, where EVERY SINGLE SOLDIER lost their life at Anzio, Italy.
My father limped to work the rest of his working life because of the ulceration, which required total bedrest to heal, but with five young children this was impossible. My little sister, Mary Lou, was his nurse, she would hand him the gauze and bandages and scissors, evry night, as he treated the oozing bleeding ulcers.
In 1974, he underwent a triple bypass, and it was then that his wounds were finally treated and he recovered, althoug his legs were forever scarred and black and blue. He continued to walk with a slight limp, due to having done so for forty years.
As a note, one of my nephews, named Michael has written about my father, and his writing has been the subject of a screenplay development in his film class. I hope that one day you can read a published work or see the screenplay. This is a direct quote from Michael’s writings, “Throughout all his bittersweet triumphs, and even on his deathbed stricken with cancer, his legacy is one much greater to be told; that of love of family, because he, who had been born in adversity and alone in life, has left a rich inheritance, not of gold or treasure, but that of wife, children and grandchildren, in whom his spirit lives on.”
I can only marvel that if the love of an earthly father can be so selfless, than how much more that of our Father God. Our heavenly father loves us no matter where we find ourselves. It is best summed up in the following and in multiple languages:
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Happy Father’s day to my two dads, and all the ones reading this entry. Be blessed, Alma.
