Papa’s girl…

My dad turns 60 today.
Along with his birthday comes wishes coming from our family that he live to a hundred. I refuse to consider any part of my life where my dad is not there.

I am a papa’s girl, and I am proud to be one.

My dad is hardworking, intelligent, witty and is a mean cook. He is very patient and very quiet about his feelings–a trait which I think oftentimes get the better off him. When he was younger, we always tease him that he looks like Robert Downey Jr. He would smile, deny the resemblance then would beam in silent confidence brought back the fact that your kids consider you good looking. Dad dresses according to the times, thanks to the Baby Brother who would give him Human Jeans, Bench shirts and shoes. On our trips overseas, The Queen and I would take great pains to buy something offbeat and cool. And while–as all workforce dads do–he brings a clutch bag to work, his is from Human and not made from faux leather.

My dad understands us as adults, not as kids. He will never hesitate to take our side when needed, or hear our story at least–this trait didn’t endear him to my mom who insists on the “authoritarian, iron-clad” way of parenting.

Dad is a frustrated artist who has the flair for calligraphy and art. He did not finish college (he was on his 3rd year in Architecture) due to poverty so he opted to work as a sign painter. That is why my parents consider sending three kids to school and helping them get degrees their foremost achievement in life. Somehow, he was living through our successes his past failures in life.

One of the things that bring me and The Queen foremost joy is when we bring dad somewhere that he is not familiar: like the grocery store or some cool place. It was like bringing a kid to a candy store. The look on his face was priceless. Like, when we brought him and our mom to Bantayan Island in Cebu. It was his first time to ride the plane and be outside Manila. Now, The Queen and I were praying for the opportunity to bring him and the mom overseas while they still can.

But my dad is not perfect you know? Since he is very quiet and keeps things to himself–he tends to escape his sorrows, worries and frustrations by drinking. And when he drinks, let’s just say–he is not as lovable as compared when he is sober.

My wish is for me to finally bring a kid to this world and let him or her meet his amazing grandfather. Now, that would really be cool.

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