My Daddy

Many things define me a person. Dutifully, I always top the list with the Mother and Wife titles first, but I must admit, I do take a great amount of pleasure in my career in corporate. Much more so as I have been able to share this with my Mentor, who is also my Father.

It was a career born of necessity at first. I was a single Mother of a tiny little girl and I had to make a living to support both of us. So, I took an entry level position in a well known company. And I have stayed with the same company, my upward trajectory continuing to rise, for the last 9 years. I found that I was really good at what I did and, having a natural proclivity to taking on any task, I was well-liked by any supervisor that I had. (Not necessarily so by all of my peers – but that is a different post.) When my dedication and hard work was recognized by my being promoted to a management title in under 3 years, my Father noted that I had beaten his personal record of the same milestone.

My working in big business had a special effect on my personal relationship with my Dad. Growing up, neither my Mom nor my four sisters or me could ever really say what he did in his line of work at IBM – though we certainly benefited from its spoils. My Mom never worked outside of the home. My sisters and I never wanted for anything - though we may have said differently during our childhood raised in tony Boca Raton. The Health Insurance we had would be unheard of today; go to any doctor, for any reason and 100% of the costs were paid for.

Now in my adulthood as I also worked in business, my Dad finally had a contemporary in his family. We would e-mail each other stock prices and business articles. Every so often, we would meet up for breakfast before our busy days at our respective offices. In the ensuing years, he became my sounding board as I faced increasingly difficult situations and people to work with. His advice was sound, sage and always came from a place of doing the right, ethical and moral thing, while never sacrificing face.

Thankfully, I inherited his driven Cuban work ethic and his advisory strategies were easy to implement. As the years passed I could tell my Dad was proud of me – proud of the Mother and businesswoman I had become.

I was equally, if not more, proud of the father, husband and man that he is. Miguel came to this country at the age of 15. His own Father, my Papi, fled pre-Castro Cuba, having seen the writing on the wall and desiring a better life for his family. My father entered High School not knowing the English language and was unfamiliar with the culture. He attended University of Florida, where he met my Mother. They married and settled in Ft Lauderdale. Early on in their marriage, he worked as a surveyor for I-95. Then, the tech company International Business Machines set up an office and manufacturing facility in Boca Raton. My Dad was hired as a line worker on the manufacturing floor in 1967.

IBM underwent many changes over the years, as did my father, who also got his Graduate Degree while working. Once a gruff disciplinarian (“wait ‘till your Father gets home!”) my Dad morphed into a loving, grateful, wise and generous soul.

His selfless nature was apparent when he had a heart attack in December 2004 while in upstate New York on a business trip. I myself was on the road for business when I got the call informing me of his situation. He had to have a quintuple bypass. I quickly booked flights and had 3 of my 4 sisters, my Mom and myself by his bedside that night, before he went into surgery. I was a mess…my eyes were welling from the tears I would shed and from the ones that had already slid down my cheeks. I held his hand and told him how much I loved him. And, at that moment, when he should have been making statements about his mortality and how scared he was to have his chest cracked open…he asked me to take my Mom and my sisters into New York City. I argued briefly that I had already seen the city and that it was 45 minutes away by train. He collared me, and made me promise that while he was in surgery, I would take the family to Manhattan. I did just that, because he asked me to (in a militant way – my sisters hated me) and marveled how he was able to think of his family and not of himself in such a harrowing time.

Through it all, Miguel continued to be a devoted employee of IBM. His supervisor at that time of his heart attack was (thankfully) a wise and considerate soul herself. And, over the next 6 years, my Father continued to spend time with (with a renewed devotion that only the’ near death’ can do) his family and poured every other part of himself into his work at IBM.

Then, at the beginning of this month, he got the news that every employed human being dreads. His supervisors positioned it that he was being “resourced out.” Essentially, my Dad was let go after 43 years of loyal service.

When he called me to tell me while I was out having dinner with a friend who is also a co-worker, I started to cry immediately. I know how much this means to him; that he was not allowed to put himself to pasture quietly…but was forced to do so. And I was so angry. Angry that he was denied his own exit, that he was fired instead of being able to plan his own departure from the workforce.

Unbeknownst to me, he knew the end was near and was already playing the game to ensure a hefty package. (As had been advised to him by the same wonderful woman who had once been his manager when he had his heart attack and is now his mentor)
He seems okay with it. He has been given March 31st as a final date. He already has thoughts on what he will do next in his career and is adamant that this one experience does not sour him on his entire career with IBM.

I am the one who is not okay with it. I want to confront someone, with fists flailing, and land a knuckle on whomever fired my Daddy.