Carlos Elias

My Dad
Carlos Alberto Elias carries his black and white Manchester United shirt. Every
Saturday or Sunday morning, I wake up to him supporting his favorite soccer team.
Even though I personally do not support the same
team, I admire his passion for Manchester United and
for soccer overall. It is this passion that pushed me to
be a soccer player myself.
He carries his flashing red wallet. Rarely with
any cash, he gracefully pulls out his card so that he
may support our family. He seldom uses it selfishly
because he knows he will get backlash from my
mother, but he is sometimes able to talk his way out of
situations. Afterall, he is the main provider for our
family, so he always deserves a little extra for himself
and his little pleasures, mostly found in either food or
drinks.
He carries a large bag of chips. He loves the
crisp and taste of every chip he bites into, and he
makes sure no chip goes to waste. This observation
might seem as an insult, but his generosity overflows as
he shares with my sister and me, as my mother looks at
all three of us with disappointment. But in the end, we
are all happy.
He carries his patience. He almost never get
furious with me, even when I seem to be extremely
annoying When I was young, I remember every night, even when he was extremely
tired from work, he would stay up until my sister and I wanted to sleep as well. Then, he
would tuck both of us into our own beds and kissed us goodnight. I had many
comforting sleeps back then.
He carries his experience. He lived in the streets of Mexicali, Baja California, and
he has been through a lot, or so he says. His experience is found in all aspects, from
my first attempts of playing soccer to my first attempts at driving a car. Either way, he
commands me to do things with a sense of familiarity that makes me think that he has
gone through this years before. I can really see myself in him, and I am certain he feels
the same in me.
He carries his humor. Every day, there is always a joke that he says that makes
me smile. It might not always be the funniest thing I have heard, but it is enough to
boost my attitude. Most recognizably, every Christmas my dad always jokes around with
my aunt Sara. This hilarious duo goes for hours trying to insult the other, and it clearly
displays the amazing sense of humor he has.
As every day moves on, his love for his family and interests are undying. It is this
kind of energy from my dad I will always be grateful for.