(A Letter to my Dad)

If my friends ever asked me what would my earliest memories would be, I’d always say I’m not really sure, but they were two of them I can recall most. First was my shoulder ride along Malinta’s Wet Market. I dunno, it was night back then and we went somewhere I can’t recall, but surely, I was happier riding on your shoulders. Second was my sort-of drowning on Manila Bay. Back then, the water’s clean, and I can even see mounds of, I dunno, maybe corals near the shoreline. I remember Mommy buying me something like an egg (which I later realized were quail eggs), a tetra of Hi-C, and some Melon Drops Candy. I remember telling me you would swim with me, and I said no, with utmost rejection. I cried out loud when you held me, dipped me into the water, but never did my mouth and nose touched it. I felt cold, crying, and alone, forgetting I am being held by your strong arms. I dunno if, during these times, I were two or three. Heck, I even believed the playground hippo from Luneta is a big monster, and will come eat me.

All those times of youth, I believed you were a strong man. I don’t want to talk about the incidents or events that led me to banish this idea, but somehow, you or me made me. We had a lot of fights, and we’ve been through the harshest mudslings. We’ve done unspeakable things with each other. Why did I keep on hating you? Why did you let me?

Maybe, I am still a child for almost twenty-four years. Maybe, I still want to ride on your back or have me held in your arms. I know it’s quite impossible, now that you’ve grown and lived up as my old man. Maybe you wanted me to be someone, and I failed you. Maybe I needed you like some big dad, and you disappointed me. Maybe I’m just being narrow-minded, and wanted to think as if life is as simple as a Hi-C tetra pack, and wanted this life to be bought by you.

Maybe I’m too scared to admit that I love you so much, I scream my lungs out, curse why you’re letting me touch the cold sea, when in fact, you’ve always held me in case I drown with my own misery. Maybe I’ve been always wrong, that with all the struggles we’ve had for years, you kept your grip, but was losing your strength.

Maybe on your day, I’ll be the one to embrace you, and buy you Hi-C.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

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