My father called me yesterday on his cellphone; he finally bought one after years of arguing that he had no need for one.

He proudly boasted, “I’ve finally adapted to modern times.”

I consider it another achievement on his list of goals.

Growing up, my father was very poor.

He was the fifth of six children, so most of the garments he wore were hand-me-downs.

When he needed paper to finish his schoolwork, he’d look for fliers through the streets and slums of Mexico.

He covered every inch of his notebooks—when he was lucky enough to have one—with his writing and used his pencils until they could no longer be used.

For Christmas, my grandparents would give him a pair of socks and new underwear; he never unwrapped the train set he hoped for.

My grandfather still gives him a pair of socks and some underwear to reminisce the good old days, as he likes to put it.

I don’t quite understand why my grandfather does that if it was such a difficult period in their lives.

But in some way, I think, it serves as a reminder of all the things my father has achieved since he came to America as a teenager.

He migrated to the states to continue his schooling, earning scholarship after scholarship until finishing up his education and earning himself a diploma.

When talking about the first job he ever had as a teacher, his eyes begin to gleam, and he almost sheds a few tears when talking about how it felt to finally have an office.

There are photographs placed around our home of him adorning his office to his liking.

When my siblings and I were younger, we never really understood why he felt so proud about having an office or multiple degrees.

Now that I’ve made it into college, I feel like I comprehend what it means to be proud of what you do and what it means to have a set of goals.

In his office, he has weathered essays dating back to his college days; they’re marked with A’s.

In my room, I keep a folder full of the papers I’m proud of.

I’ve made a list of goals that will hopefully be fulfilled before I die.

Everyday, when he came home from work, he was full of laughter and humorous stories about his students, and I’ve learned to keep my head up when everything around me feels like it’s falling apart.

He always finds something new and beautiful in each day, something that keeps him going, like the day he made his Facebook or when he stood on the scale and discovered that he lost 10 pounds.

He has accomplished so much and continues to do so, even at his age.

Whenever he is working in his office, he gazes in admiration at the diplomas and certificates hanging along his wall, and with his 55th birthday coming up in three days, I can only do the same.

Jaime Lopez is a sophomore journalism major. He can be reached at 581-2812 or denopinions@gmail.com.