Naleighna Kai's Literary Cafe Magazine Father's Day Tributes | Page 6

The Legacy by Sierra Kay ON SUNDAY MORNINGS, my dad often cooked a full spread of either pancakes or waffles, scrambled eggs, and Brown and Serve® beef sausage. He would try to convince us again that Alaga® syrup was good (I’m sorry Alaga, but that’s a taste I never quite acquired). Truthfully I preferred Log Cabin® or Mrs. Butterworth’s®. Once, I woke early and my dad was in the usual spot in our kitchen, which allowed me to spend a few quiet moments with him. This day we played a simple card game, a few laughs and a wonderful time shared between father and daughter. It’s these moments that I cherish to this day. In the little time between his two jobs, he encouraged debates on any topics. Even today, years after his passing, Thanksgiving dinner is more of a precursor to a current events lesson than anything else. My father constantly consumed knowledge and as his children, we did too, by being able to participate in the discussions around the kitchen table. My appreciation for documentaries is a legacy from my dad. Random bits of knowledge of insects and Ancient Egypt still float around in my head. As a child, we actually watched Dr. Who together. If you’ve never heard of it, then you’re not quite the nerd that I am. Nor, were you addicted to public television, as my dad had been. Not only that, but we grew up on stories of my dad and his friend, Malcolm X. Through some of our talks, I learned that my dad stood next to many notable, but no less passionate, historical figures. He could and did speak in front of hundreds of people. But to support his family, he dealt with a lot. First instance, one of his jobs refused to promote him, and it didn’t matter that he trained every supervisor that walked through the door. And every supervisor he had was white. So for this man, who loved knowledge more than Walt Disney loved that soon-to-be famous Mouse, to continually be passed up for a supervisory position year after year, and have to train the replacement must have stuck in his craw deeper than Excalibur in the stone. Although he shared that disappointment at one time, he never let it consume him as so many other men would. It was our lesson on