Abraham was my step-father who passed away back in October of 1990, from cancer. He confused me and others and intimidated many in his days on this planet. The c confusion comes into play for me because he ranged in some many different directions in his actions and his personality that at one time you would love the man and at another you would definitely hate him for what he did to you, or anyone else.
Abraham was an Albanian and his religion was Muslim, but you never ever saw him worship and he never talked about his religion in anyway, to his kids he raised and there were five of us.
As far back as I can remember Abraham was intimidating and scary, not only to me but to his wife, my mother and all my siblings too. But he never took any guff from anyone and was determined to do things his way at all times, no matter
what others thought or said and he was mostly correct too. This man stood six foot 2 and weighed 280 lbs. and wore a goatee, cut short to accent his meanness and take away from his wide big nose. To see him for the first time you would see this hulking man, cleanly groomed, with that goatee and a Fedora all black on his bald head, with his remaining grey hair around the edges short and trimmed well, coming at you. When he spoke he could go from pleasant to angry in no time and when his temper flared everyone would get out of his way. But to me he was always Dad.
Abraham and I had a strange relationship right till the day he died. As a child I was myself, a confusion of sorts for my parents and Doctors also, as my mother would say. But to Abraham I was not any worse than any of my siblings or, any better than them. I can remember him comforting me when I fell with big bear hugs and beating me badly when I did wrong, or at the insistence of my mother. But I remember good and bad concerning this hulk of a man I called dad, he swung from moods of helpful and compassionate, to angry and violent usually triggered by two of his little things that always disturbed him. I guess in his childhood, he must have had a conflict with his father also, his pet peeves were lying and liars and thieves. Abraham always said he could put up with anything in his life, except for liars and thieves who took from him or his family. He defended his family, his, immediate family, us kids and our mother, but also his siblings too.
I remember bear hugs and handshakes, fishing trips where he took time to teach me, how to cast, assemble a fishing pole, tie hooks and lures on and more. He took peaceful moments by lakes to teach me how to build fires and fish, and cast and more. I also remember trips to fairs and The New York World’s fair in the 1960’s. All 7 of us, Abraham, our mother and all five of us kids, at The World’s fair in the big Uniroyal Tire ferris wheel and him pointing out thing at the top he could see to us kids. And then the sudden screaming and yelling from my mother out of the blue, because he shook or rocked the car we were in. Suddenly mom went into a panic screaming get me down now. His helplessness at what to do and his yelling in that big deep voice at the operator get us down now as he held her and watches us kids. It is a sight I still remember today.
My confusion with Abraham was always who was he really, was he this compassionate man who raised two kids and three of his own and loved them, or was he this mean, big son of a bitch man, who beat us senseless at time and pulled us from bed at night to do it, which was he?
In April of 1990 I returned home after 16 years in the U.S. Navy and I was going thru divorce from my first wife. I went home to my parents for a place to stay and there was Abraham now a shell of the big man he once was. He weighed maybe 200 lbs. and was losing weight fast, and I had no idea at first, why, till my mother told me he had cancer. As I used a bedroom to put myself back together, Abraham helped me by giving me advice where he could, save your money he said, you will need it for lawyers for the divorce and to protect
yourself. Abraham advised me on many things, for the first months I was home; we would talk watching Red Sox games in the summer. He looked at me one day while we were watching a game on a sunny day in June, and he said to me“Son, I just want you to know, that lazy boy recliner you gave me for Father’s Day when you were 18 years old, is the best present any of my kids ever gave me.” He never said anything more about it, not when I bought it for him or since, till that day. It was amazing to me almost 20 years later he was saying thank you in his own way.
Well, the days passed and in October of 1990, I called home and he answered the phone. I asked for my mother, he said she wasn’t home and he wasn’t feeling well. I told him I wanted to come over and help him if I could, he said no to me and told me he would be ok. And then he told me to take care of myself before he hung up. Three days later, I received a phone call; he had passed away in the hospital, from pancreatic cancer. I was shocked and sad and cried. No matter how violent, or compassionate or easy or tough he could be, he was always and foremost a dad to me.
The End
