I want to write my father a nice Father's Day message, but I don't know where to start. I try to rack my brain for a nice flow to this post, because I cannot just anyhow dedicate a second-class piece of writing to the first man that I have ever loved - my papa. How do I utilize the 26 letters of the English alphabet to fairly illustrate my father's remarkable character, to thank him for all he's done for me and for our family, and to tell him how much I love him?
One of my first few vivid memories of my father is when he was washing my brother's clothes, who was then less than a year old. I still remember the lump that was forming in my throat and the hot tears that were about to burst. I was just so touched by the gesture, and that my young brain cannot comprehend why my father was doing the laundry instead of our house helpers. There's supposed to be a party in our relatives' house just inside the compound where we were also living, so I don't know why the heck my father was doing the laundry at that time. His back was facing me so I don't think he knew I was watching him. I was only four then, but the memory still lingers.
During my kindergarten days, I could always count on my father to help me do my homework. I could always approach him whenever I felt like a buffoon in math or if I needed to draw a pond with ducklings in my English workbook. It was such a big deal to me when he taught me that the square root of 49 is 7 even while I was just beginning to learn how to multiply 2 by 2.
My father is a very patient person. His patience extends to the clouds. But sometimes they are low-hanging, gray nimbus clouds. When he gets angry enough to give me or my simblings a spanking, he would never fail to say sorry afterwards. He would always approach us, place us on his lap, and explain why he had to discipline us and make us understand that he wants to straighten our ways because he loves us.
He is also the type who tells a lot of funny jokes and anecdotes. But most importantly, he always gives little nuggets of wisdom in each serving of his life story. He would tell us his past mistakes so we'll learn from them.
Right now I can't properly organize my thoughts, because I need to sleep early as I'm leaving for Indonesia so freakingly early tomorrow. I hope my father would pardon my haphazard attempt to shout to the world that he is the best dad I think there is, that I appreciate his calls and sms and all words of encouragement, that I am touched everytime he picks me up when I stumble from a relationship gone bad or from sucky grades, or just for being the plain old dad I could run to just as I had done when I scrape my knees when I was still a tyke. I thank you for providing for us, for not having any vice, for leading our family, and for loving us unconditionally.
You are my inspiration, Papa, (as well as Mama!), at sana matupad ko lahat ng pinangarap nyo para sa akin.=)
I love you!
One of my first few vivid memories of my father is when he was washing my brother's clothes, who was then less than a year old. I still remember the lump that was forming in my throat and the hot tears that were about to burst. I was just so touched by the gesture, and that my young brain cannot comprehend why my father was doing the laundry instead of our house helpers. There's supposed to be a party in our relatives' house just inside the compound where we were also living, so I don't know why the heck my father was doing the laundry at that time. His back was facing me so I don't think he knew I was watching him. I was only four then, but the memory still lingers.
During my kindergarten days, I could always count on my father to help me do my homework. I could always approach him whenever I felt like a buffoon in math or if I needed to draw a pond with ducklings in my English workbook. It was such a big deal to me when he taught me that the square root of 49 is 7 even while I was just beginning to learn how to multiply 2 by 2.
My father is a very patient person. His patience extends to the clouds. But sometimes they are low-hanging, gray nimbus clouds. When he gets angry enough to give me or my simblings a spanking, he would never fail to say sorry afterwards. He would always approach us, place us on his lap, and explain why he had to discipline us and make us understand that he wants to straighten our ways because he loves us.
He is also the type who tells a lot of funny jokes and anecdotes. But most importantly, he always gives little nuggets of wisdom in each serving of his life story. He would tell us his past mistakes so we'll learn from them.
Right now I can't properly organize my thoughts, because I need to sleep early as I'm leaving for Indonesia so freakingly early tomorrow. I hope my father would pardon my haphazard attempt to shout to the world that he is the best dad I think there is, that I appreciate his calls and sms and all words of encouragement, that I am touched everytime he picks me up when I stumble from a relationship gone bad or from sucky grades, or just for being the plain old dad I could run to just as I had done when I scrape my knees when I was still a tyke. I thank you for providing for us, for not having any vice, for leading our family, and for loving us unconditionally.
You are my inspiration, Papa, (as well as Mama!), at sana matupad ko lahat ng pinangarap nyo para sa akin.=)
I love you!
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