In many languages the familiar way for father starts with a T.
Tata or Tad, Tatay, Tay, Taica or just Ta.
My father was important to me. He was a good man.
He liked to speak with people, especially simple people.
He was very close to the impoverished farmers in his remote birthplace.
His life was not simple and he resented the difficult circumstances of his delivery, but he did not show this openly.
He had a very nice smile and feet very similar to mines.
For some reasons at a certain point I stopped talking to him. Actually for no reason, he was very kind and we never doubted, I never doubted about his love and care.
This is the most sorrowful of my regrets. I do not have too many, probably because even if apparently eventful, my life was quite plain.
Once, while I was a child, at the beach, he convinced me to set free a little fish I had catched, and he tought me many other lessons without being pedantic.
He explained to us about the chlorophyll photosynthesis that he considered the secret of life.
I would like to meet him again, to talk a bit, to see his smile.