Unconditional Love, by Connie Reda

Unconditional Love
by Connie Reda

My Dad, Mario Raymond Reda, has always been there for me through the thick and the thin. He has always put my needs above his own and has made many great sacrifices for me. He was married once before and is a whopping 65 years old now. He’s already had a set of kids and had gone through the whole parenting thing before, yet he treats my brother and I with the greatest luxury he can get. He has made so many sacrifices for me and I have never given him credit hr deserves. And I don’t know how I can pay him back but till then id like you all to know how great he is.

I remember my father and the things we used to do when I was little. Although now he is retired, he used to be a soccer coach at the College of Dupage. Soccer has always been a passion of his and it was passed from his father to him and down to me. He used to bring me to work and I would help him out during practice. I did all sorts of jobs such as cheerleader, water girl, and eventually the ball girl. I’d go to many of the games and he would let all college students coddle me and of course I loved all the attention. After practice sometimes he would bring me to class where he taught sociology and I would sit there and look cute and help daddy with all the little things that really made me more of a nuisance than a help. And all though I was such a distraction my dad still let me come along, because running over and picking up his dropped pen made me feel really special.

I remember all the car rides I had with my dad. My parents would often meet places after work. My dad would come from work in his Alfa Romeo (his prized Italian sports car) and my Mom would come in her car. On the way home me and my brother would always split up, one in Dad’s car, one in Mom’s car. My brother was little when we used to do this and stuck by mom so I was normally in dad’s car. We would always have the best conversations. He would talk about how he ran for congress before I was born and how if he won we might not be in the war we are in now or how he and his friends would talk all the old Christmas trees after Christmas, and have a huge bonfire. Another one of his great discussion topics was architecture, I don’t know how but you would be driving around and he would point out houses and tell you who built them and when. When my family got bored of hearing the same stories over and over (because he would forget which one he told) I grew very fond of them and I hold them dear to me now. I specifically remember one car ride and I wasn’t talking very much to which he responded with the old phrase“ a penny for your thoughts?” and me being the stickler I am said “ a penny is worth nothing now-a-days... a quarter is about the equivalent to a penny in the olden days” so we compromised and he gave me a nickel and I told him what was on my mind.

My father has always spoiled me in such manners. If I ever needed something he was that parent to go to. When I was with him we did all sorts of things that broke the rules, especially in our morning routine. With him cookies and cake for breakfast was a must. I recall sitting with my dad and dipping my cookies in his cappuccino until my mom got mad saying it would stunt my growth and that I was short enough. Therefore, he would make me a “cappuccino” (steamed milk) of my own and always make sure to sprinkle chocolate on top to make it a “rich treat”.

In the middle of 8th grade this happy healthy man started to deteriorate when he was diagnosed with cancer. I always knew because of his age he would die early, but it was such an abrupt change I was in total shock, along with the rest of my family. My dad has gone from a happy youthful active man to a dying couch potato. He talks his way out of going anywhere now a days. He’s gone from a plump little man to all skin and bones. He was always hard of hearing but now you literally need to yell things to him sometimes. It is always so frustrating to talk to him because he makes you repeat everything and instead of just asking you to repeat he’ll blame you for speaking to softly or turning your head, making it hard to get a word in. Since now all he hears is people yelling at him and he never wants to get up and do anything. His sits on the couch in his pajamas and watches TV the ENTIRE day.

Even though he’s sick and suffering now because of the chemotherapy, he continues to take it because he feels that my brother and I have not gotten our share by dyeing so soon and he’s trying to prolong his death even thought we know his cancer is incurable since we caught it in such a late stage.

I know that even though my dad and I don’t do the things we used to do anymore, he still loves me and shows it through all the sacrifices he makes. Though I would give anything to bring back those times where we went out together, I have learned a valuable lesson I shall not forget. I have learned that I must cherish what I have and not mourn what I have lost. And though my dad and I don’t do much anymore, and regret not seizing that chance while I could I realize that I still have a dad who loves me so much he will sacrifice his comfort, and I know he will love me and watch over me, even when he’s gone.