I was watching the Selena movie a couple of weeks ago and I swear every time I watch it, I see something new or have some kind of realization. This time, I was watching it around the anniversary of dad’s death, October 24, 2011. I commemorate that day differently every year and honestly, this year has been so hectic and I have so much going on, the day came and went and I didn’t do anything special or in memory of dad. I was actually shuttling my son from specialist to specialist trying to keep him out of the ER and healthy enough to get to school. Maybe that counts, dad would do anything to make sure I got to school.
So, back to my Selena movie moment. There’s a scene when Selena returns home to talk to her dad about secretly getting married to Chris and he wants to be mad at her but he can’t. That reminded me of my dad, there were a few times where I made him so mad but he couldn’t stay mad at me, but more than just that, when Selena’s dad called her “mijita” with such exasperated love, I just busted out crying. I haven’t let myself get to that space where I am missing him so much, but that moment of vulnerability and tenderness between a daughter and father opened the flood gates.
There are a lot of things I miss about dad. His hugs, his laugh, his cooking, his random gifts (mostly from Fiesta) but the thing I am missing most lately is hearing him calling me, “mijita.” Most of the time there was an “ay” preceding “mijita” because that was just me, always getting into something or being hard on myself, deserving of an “ay mijita.”
I miss the gruffness in his voice and the way he would drag out the length of the words depending on severity of the situation, like, if I was telling him something that he perceived as dangerous, like me driving from Austin to Houston at night, he would say “ay, mijita,” real quick and in a high pitch tone like he was stepping on something hot or cold or if I was sharing a heartbreak of love or not getting a scholarship or program, it was a low and slow tone, “aaayyyyy.miijiita.”
Following every “ay, mijita” moment was a big hug waiting for me. I miss those so much. Just knowing that no matter how much I messed up or how much I was hurting there was an “ay, mijita” waiting for me and a big bear hug to help me feel better.
I still talk to dad in those moments when I need him the most and I can hear his “ay mijitas” with their variations and I imagine his big bear hugs.