As I stood next to his bedside holding a stick with a wet-blue sponge attached, I noticed my 88-year-old dad silently screaming for water. He could only open his dry mouth slightly. I felt helpless. He had limited ability to swallow and I knew he was experiencing his last hours.
My thought was a storming flashback of a million memories containing events of what my dad did for our large family. Things he did for me personally, when I was a kid, was even more powerful and selfless.
He could only take small amounts of water at a time. So I was patient with him. He opened his beautiful brown eyes and looked at me. He was trying to smile, but it was extremely difficult for him. I said, "It's okay, Dad, just rest."
On October 23, 2022 at 1:50 p.m., my dad went to be with Jesus. This day was full of emotions for me. I can't speak for my brothers and sisters, I knew how private some of them were. I'm sure they had their own thoughts about Dad.
My dad was a strong, handsome, and hardworking individual. Everything had to be perfect, whether he was fixing a door or a vehicle. He was mechanically inclined -- loved working on cars and pickups. He loved driving huge trucks and operating heavy equipment. His life was composed of ninety percent hard work and ten percent fun -- always busy doing something.
As a youth I didn't enjoy working under the car with him, but I did it when he asked me to help him. I loved that he taught me so many things -- how to ride a bike, how to drive a car (at age 12), how to respect people, the list is too long.
What I didn't realize, is that he never once told me about all the things he did for me. He was humble and private. I learned that he was digging a ditch for a gas line when I was transferred to the hospital as a five year-old due to an accident. He was working labor jobs -- sometimes two at a time. He provided for our family.
Instead of resting on his days off, he would drive my mom to Amarillo so they could visit me at St. Anthony's Hospital. I wrote about my dad in my autobiography, Half Blind with Full Vision.
Growing up as a young kid, my dad bought me basketball shoes, and sometimes he would sneak me over to the Bobcat Drive-In for a burger and fries. He didn't tell any of the siblings, it was a secret. He could not afford to buy for the entire family.
He helped buy a motorcycle for my older brothers. With limited income, he found a way to keep us all smiling. Some of my favorite times with my dad was watching westerns like Bonanza, The Rifleman, The Virginian, and Gun Smoke. There was only three channels on TV at that time.
His two daughters
Our Christmas days were always fun, and I can only think of one Christmas that my parents couldn’t afford to get us any gifts -- sad moment. As a youth, my Dad would use a credit card to buy all of us presents. The rest of the year, he would work his tail off to pay off that credit card. He didn't care, because he enjoyed seeing us open Christmas presents. It saddens me, because I don't remember getting my dad a Christmas present until years later.
He just simply smiled every year when he put those BlackJack fireworks under the tree for his kids. He would always install Christmas lights around our house as well.
We always had a roof over our heads and we always had food. There were days that we had to wait until the late evening to get food, but my dad found a way to get us food. I was so blessed to have a dad like him that always put his family in front of anything else. And a more supportive husband to my mom was an understatement.
Dad always had a smile on him. It was rare that he ever panicked about anything -- I never saw it. I recall back in Texas, there was a tornado hitting the ground not far from us. Everyone was freaking out. My dad was cool and calm executing the right steps to get us to safety.
My dad was a field worker and a foreman for field workers. He was a janitor for the South Grade Elementary School back in Dimmitt, Texas. He was also a bus driver -- a secure job for a long time. He was a semi-truck driver, a Ready-Mix truck driver. He was a mechanic -- his Uncle Lalo taught him how to fix transmissions. My dad was a food-processing-plant worker, a furniture builder, a sawmill worker, and car detail worker. He always found employment.
My dad, Wences, and my mom, Gabriela
Most importantly, my dad was a counselor to me -- he knew how to cheer me up during the darkest hours of my life, and I can never be thankful enough. The sacrifices he made for me were beyond measure.
My dad is my hero, he paved the way for my success. I raised two boys, and I do feel that if it wasn't for my dad, I would not have had some of the life skills that I learned from him. Dad, I know that you are in paradise right now with no pain and no tears. I'm so glad that I told you about Jesus five years ago. I'm so glad that you accepted Jesus as your Savior. This was before your dementia progressed. Now you can be with Mom up in Heaven. Revelation 21.
If you have a dad, please tell him that you love him. I was able to tell my dad that I loved him and that I was so thankful for all of his hard work all those years. The last thing he told me when his memory was there, was, "God bless you, Mi hijo, I'm so proud of you".
Four generations - my dad was a great grandfather.
Thank you for all of your prayers and thoughts, I've heard from so many of you. Much love to my friends.
Now there's expenses, cremation, burial, funeral, etc. Inflation is not friendly. If you are willing to contribute to help out, that would be so awesome.
Please send cards, contributions, etc. to my P.O. Box. Thank you! Love you all.
David Espinoza
P.O. Box 20939
Keizer, OR 97307