On this day, 1959, the greatest man alive was born.
He was a tiny, fragile thing… if only he knew how strong he would become.
He was born to neglect and disarray, a common consequence of an all too young mother and a militant father. He was cast off to live with his maternal grandparents at first, in a cozy home rich with Maltese culture. It was here the foundation of his essence was formed. He was a beautiful child, full of potential with wide, eager eyes ready to take on the world. But the boy was shy, and as much as we now would think that the shyness would hold him back, it in fact allowed him to become much more knowledgeable. Rather than barreling head first into chaos, he knew better to sit on the sidelines and wait for the opportune moment to speak up, which in future would prove to be key in his life.
After the age of 4 things weren’t so bright for the boy. Robbed from his first known family he went to stay with his father and paternal grandparents. His step-grandfather was known for his favour of the stick and the boy was no stranger to the mans cruelty. If only the man had known how time would gnarl his hands and and cripple him with arthritis, but of course, he did not, and the beatings continued.
After a long drawn out childhood, teenage life, the boy, almost a man, left home.
He lived on the streets and did whatever he could to make his way.
His teeth rotted out before he was 20.
But that didnt stop him.
He met a beautiful woman, gorgeous light hair, shocking eyes, and despite ALL ODDS, he pursued her. She was tough (farm girls usually are) but he won her heart, even if he didnt win the approval of her father.
They got married, and in 1983 they had a son.
And in 1985… they had a daughter….
He taught them how to fight. He taught them how to play. He was patient when anyone else would’ve been anything but. He’s the greatest man that ever lived, and he made his fortune from less than a grade 9 education, met his dream girl with no teeth in his mouth, and in 1985, he and my mother made me.
The boy is my father. It’s his birthday today.
The older I get the busier I am; the less time I have to talk to him and the more time he has to talk to me. We may have quarreled once or twice in the past, but so few nowadays can say they had a great father figure, and mine wasnt just great, he was epic. I am always eternally grateful to be one of the few not only blessed enough to know my dad, but to be part of him.