It’s with a heavy heart that I come to you this morning to let you know my father passed away.
For me everything about yesterday was created by Gods design and for that I will be forever grateful.
When I was a little girl we had moved to the country from the Bronx , where chickens and the deer walked your yard daily .. One day however I didn’t feel good and I went to the nurse saying I was having a difficult time breathing but as a lil girl from the Bronx no one listened - she sent me back to class.. In true Laura fashion I worked a lil more but once again I found myself at the nurses office - she called my dad and it just so happened that this particular day he was home ..
Later on that evening I woke up muttering that I couldn’t breath , my lil voice carried and before I knew it , my father was holding me in his arms in the darkness of night running across the fields to the our neighbors house .. It would be there that the neighbor told him I was having a asthma attack.
I remember quite vividly my father calling out my name , to which I also recall being annoyed because I felt the peace coming over my little body and every time he would call my name my eyes would wake to the darkness of a car and my fathers face , the music low in the background..
After that , the only thing I can retrieve from that moment was someone asking me to stand , a flood of white light washed over me and I collapsed .
I would wake up later in an oxygen tent looking at my father and mother - I survived but I remember.
Apparently they said it was the adrenaline that they had given me that had perhaps pulled me from the white light I had seen.
Yesterday my father went to the very hospital that had saved my life many years earlier and it was I and the hospital staff that prepared him for journey home - we came full circle ⭕️
The care that my father received yesterday was beyond what ever my very fragile heart could witness.. The love , tenderness , compassion and dignity that those beautiful ladies had provided was similar out the scene from the Bible when Mary had washed Jesus feet with the perfume: it was reverent and I cried .. I cried because it was one of those moments that someone treated my father with humility , respect and care which unfortunately I can only say , does not always happen but not yesterday , yesterday he received the best of care.
The view , well I believe God arranged that for me because he knows that I find peace in his majestic wonders of this world and yesterday when the storm raged in my soul and the tears would overtake me I would look out the window and through the lords grace he would touch my heart through the glistening of the snow on the trees and I would breath deep and instead of being overtaken by my enormity of it all my spirit was calmed and the storm would settle .
My dad was a working man , and he could do anything and much to my mothers frustration I too followed in my fathers footsteps.. He taught me how to get low to the ground , learn as much as you can and work along side the team to get the job done ..
He taught me how fight : swing low Laura ..
He advised me to not mix juice with alcohol as a bartender it was his belief that the sugars from the juice would make you get drunk faster .
My father introduced me to music , and I suspects that’s why I have such a broad range of what I listen to From Doo Wop , Classical , R and B to the like ..
He also taught me to be the story , to which that’s the one piece that I’m still working on because sometimes I write myself off as an excerpt oppose to the novel .
My father was a police officer where her served the community in the Bronx. It would be there that he bore witness to the pain and suffering of the Harlem Riots in the 1964.
My father was a bartender for a while where he survived a major fire barely getting out alive
Dad also waited tables , worked in a deli , and worked for me for a minute or two : dang lotto machine tested and tried my fathers patience and we both knew that the rigors of convenience store life was not for him : which is where the infamous story comes to life on the day I had to let my dad go..... But we both got a good chuckle out of it when I said, " I don't think this is going to work out , but I will see you at home"
His last job was where he served as a toll booth collector : he loved that job but once again my father would find himself in a life and death situation when 3 teenagers drove over a median while being chased by the police into my fathers tollbooth . After that my father was put out on permanent disability which afforded him the opportunity to be available for his his grandson .
The bond that my father had with my son was one that knew no boundaries and the love was limitless.. We were blessed with 24 beautiful years of love between these 2 .
I never knew my grandparents so for me I understand the magnitude of how the roots of this love ran deep .
My dad was my map he walked with me and talked with me but he also listened, not only to me but to the crazy music I would have blaring through the speakers on the truck when we were delivering bread .. My father took me on those runs I suspect to keep me out of trouble with my mom because lord knows I was not the best of teenagers .
I can tell you that my father went to see Slayer , Megadeth , Ozzy ,Pantera, Judas Priest , Motorhead , Poison on several occasions, and although my music tastes didn't align up with his, he still carted us girls to the show, and listened to us squeal like high pitched cats on a hot summers day... Best ever was when my father took a wrong turn that led to ( Name that Band ) tour buses.. Now granted everyone that was anyone jumped on us like white on rice, and quickly turned my dads Plymouth around but in that moment my dad was all of our heroes : much to his chagrin (:
Sidebar - out of all the bands he listened to turned out White Trash was one of his favorites..
When I would run away from home, it would be my father that came looking for me.
Now please don't get me wrong, my father and I also had turbulence , to which I can say came about because we were so similar and yet so very different. There would be many occasions that my father and I would not speak but as I got older and slightly more wiser, I made it a point to say sorry and clear the air.
I loved my dad and to say that I will miss him would be an understatement..
As my family and I process the passing of my father , please continue to pray for us as there is so much more that will need to be done in the upcoming months that will require a lot of effort and courage but I gave my father my word that he could consider it done and he could remove it from his plate and as far as I’m concerned I always keep my word.
There is much gratitude to go around but I have to formally acknowledge my Grifols Team in Charlotte North Carolina that afforded me the opportunity to be with my father in his last weeks as well as be available for my mother. I thank all of them for their kind words , prayers and their support.
I close this out with a song that my father introduced me to , one that I would often listen to when he would be away and one that he had placed in my heartbefore he had passed.
