Letters

Letter 2

November 6th, 2004

Dear Dad,

            It’s the first full day in America and I’m pretty excited. I got to explore the beach right next to Uncle Alex’s house and the ocean was still pretty grey. It was pretty cold too, but it was the kind of cold that was kind of relaxing and nice in a way. Walking along the shore reminded me of the times when you and I went camping in the forest, somewhere in America. I remembered that you’d take me to a lake in your overalls and boots, and you’d try to make rocks skip along the surface of the water. I wanted to learn how to do it, so you tried to teach me, but I never got it. If there were any river rocks here by the ocean, then maybe I could try it.

            When I got back to the house, I brought back pieces of drift wood and seashells. Then I dumped it onto my bed and I began thinking about how I could arrange the stuff in my new room. I could put the drift wood on book shelves and the shells could help decorate it, and maybe if I got Christmas lights, it could light up my room when I read. And maybe I could have a radio or turntable to play songs by Sammy Davis and Billy Joel in the background. If I had my surfboard with me, I’d display it in the corner right across from the door so that it’d be the first thing you’d see when you walk in. And I’d also love a little palm tree living right next to my bed, that would be really cool too.

            When I got back downstairs, Uncle Alex and I ate pancakes and we discussed about the school I might go to. It was the school you and he went to and I might start next week, since this week is already ending. Then we got into his truck, and while he was driving we toured the city for when I get to drive later, and by that, he meant that I could drive his red Ferrari around. It’s his favorite car, I couldn’t risk driving it for one day because I might ruin it, but maybe I’ll consider it later.

            We visited art stores, nurseries, furniture stores, clothing stores, and book stores. We didn’t get much stuff though. Uncle Alex says I’m too selfless because I was constantly checking the price of every item. I didn’t want to spend too much money that wasn’t mine, even though he says it’s completely fine. I guess it’s a habit.

            We also got to eat lunch at a sea food restaurant. I ordered some fried fish and Uncle Alex got some crab legs. While we were eating, he asked if I liked it here so far. I responded with “Yeah I do”, because being here brings back so many memories of when I went to school, when I went camping, when I went hiking, and so much more, but you were in those memories and you’re not here. The way the lights hanged on the ceiling of the restaurant reminded me of Christmas, which made me a little more upset. It’s not Christmas without the whole family, especially when you’re in the hospital getting treated for cancer and when mom’s in jail again.

            When we got back to the house, I helped unload the furniture. We moved my new dresser and book shelf into my room, and afterwards we started hanging up prints of Georges Braque’s paintings in my room. After that, we rested outside on the patio. Uncle Alex and I spent most of the time talking about how I needed to stop worrying about others, like how you’d mention that to me sometimes.

            He even brought up scenarios from the past to prove his point, like that time when kids would copy homework from me and the teacher noticed that almost everyone in the class got the same answers. Those kids got detention, but I got up to tell the teacher that I allowed everyone to copy off from me in hopes that they wouldn’t get detention. It didn’t turn out as I expected, because everyone got detention anyways and I got a week of detention.

            Another thing he brought up was that he used to pack my lunch and I’d end up coming home with an empty stomach. He said that he would pack yogurt, a sandwich, trail mix, a granola bar, some candy, and a water bottle. I’d give everyone who was still hungry my lunch and all I’d have left was raisins from my trail mix and a water bottle. He told me that I’d tell him that I had no problem with it because those kids’ parents wouldn’t have enough money to buy them lunch even though we do. He said that it wasn’t any of our concern and that being too nice can take a toll on you one day.

            Afterwards he told me that we’re going shopping again tomorrow and he expects me to become more impulsive of the things I want without any concern. Ironically, that concerned me. I know what I like, but I don’t know what I want without thinking about others first before myself. It’s a habit, and I guess I need to break it.

Your Son,

Rico