Thursday, August 30, 2007



Dear Dad

I know you are old but you would not admit it (but sure enough, the protruding lines on your forehead and white hair strands popping are a definite proof). Much has been said about our stagnant daughter-father relationship and I am not very open to you as much as you have not been that open to me. I am not jealous if the youngest lass in the family is your favorite and you do not have to admit that too, because it shows in various ways-- though, at times, it gets a bit too undone and unfair since you side with her in most of our "sister fights." Likewise, I may not be your ideal daughter just as much as you are not really my ideal father. Yet, as tough as we may both seem and the fact that I inherited your inaffectionate manners just makes a decent account that we are related by blood.

I remember the times when I was very young (about 3-4yrs. old) and you brought me wherever you race. I travelled with you together with Mom and probably cheered with you and shared happy moments once I see you up on the stage, standing proudly on that platform labeled with a bold number one. As the organizers handed you your trophy, I hear people cheer and I didn't know how many people idolize you despite the fact that your sport wasn't much of a hit back then.

I remember you teaching me my first tennis lessons and buying me my own racket at age 8. You were so delighted to hear my interest in the sport that you immediately got me a good coach. But then again, I remember the time wherein you weren't there during my main tournament. Under the scorching summer heat of about two in the afternoon, I was out in the open court playing my heart out and hoping to see your face amidst the crowd. I battled with a guy, about a couple of years older and an excellent player. Obviously, I lost and I cried. No, I did not cry because of the fact that I didn't emerge onto a higher level, but rather I cried because Mom told me you could not make it. You called me up, you talked to me, comforted me about my lost game but what I wanted to actually hear was a valid reason for why you weren't there to support me. When I arrived home, we had a petty fight. I cried all night just because I needed your presence during the game but of which you never showed up.

From then on, I realized that you were not the family-guy-affectionate-type of person. I would not doubt if you inherited this from Tatay but I hope you prove yourself good in a way or another. As I grew older, I parted with you and when Lexi came, this made a bigger gap in our relationship. But I do not blame her, she adds spice to our family.

I know how much grades matter to you that's why I try to please you with the line of 9's I get but you seem to not notice unless I get a perfect mark. I give you good grades during quizzes but unless it's a 10/10 or 20/20, you would not seem that happy to me. I know you believe in my own capacity but I think your expectations are sky-tower high. I cannot live on them because grades are not the basis for my future. I may be an excellent student this time but in the future, who knows. After all, grades just seem to do no good since they are digits very much inferior to values I can pick up daily and apply to life.

On the contrary, though you are not the "ideal" father in my mind, I think that you have done the best that you can. I am amazed at your ability to derive shortcuts as you used to help me with daily math assignments. You also could fix things mechanically, so there is no need to hire some technician or repairman unless it's a severe damage. To top it all off, you are the one who goes to the wet market every week, instead of Mom. Actually, I'd be happier if you'd do the grocery too and I promise that if you do so, I will be with you all the time.

I am, at times, thankful at how you spoil me. You shower me with gadgets whenever I meet your expectations right. But nonetheless, you are back to your strict self once I start the quarter or schoolyear all over again.

You taught me how to be simple in many ways. You taught me how to value the things I have. You taught me how important a single peso was. You taught me how dear a grain of rice is. You taught me the significance of education. You taught me to be independent.

Yes, you were strict but at a reasonable cost. I know how you would hate me going out with the opposite sex and remember how you'd call and text every now and then just to check if your eldest daughter is well and okay.

I know you are less expressive and you do not bring home the problems you encounter at work. Every night, during dinner, I see your tired eyes and very red face. Although you seldom confess that you have a headache, we all know.

Yes, you are not my ideal father and I may not be your ideal daughter. But do you mind why we are put together? I think it stands for a certain purpose: you complete me, and I complete you. We do not have the perfect model of a daughter-father relationship but I know we are slowly entering the process of getting to know each other again.

On this day special day, I wish that you will feel blessed around us. I pray that God will continue to protect you from harm and help you whenever problems come your way. I pray that you will be more expressive of how you feel and that you'd be open to us about your problems. Just remember that we will always be here for you, no matter what.

I love you. Happy Birthday. :)

Love lots,
Kara


P.S. I broke the printer so I think we need to buy a new one after all. Hehe.