Through a Daughter’s Eyes: Letter + Stories about Dad

It’s Father’s Day! Happy Father’s Day to all the amazing dads out there! Most especially, Happy Father’s Day to my very own amazing dad. With this, I’d like to share with everyone little stories or memories I have with my father. I’m also sharing my short letter to him.

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As a kid, whenever I was scared or nervous about something, my dad always tells me to hug him as tight as I could and transfer all my fears to him. And that he’d swim in the ocean for me and wash all my fears away.

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Dad took me to his hometown a lot as a kid. Zamboanga City is about 300 miles away where we lived so we took a lot of bus rides together. I loved how he knew all the places we passed by from years and years of traveling the route. I’d always ask him where we were whenever we were passing a remote area without signs, he’d always have an answer, and it’d be right when I checked the next sign I see.

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My dad drinks. A lot. But when I was younger, I never saw him throw a fit when he was drunk. He rarely goes out drinking with friends. He just drinks by himself in our house and he goes to sleep.

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There was one time when he took me with him to a friend’s house. They were drinking and it was totally fine with me because of all the food. We were sitting on tall benches then. I was a short kid (I still am, by the way) so my feet couldn’t reach the ground. On top of being short, I was also clumsy (still am, too) so I fell off the bench and landed straight on the ground with rocks. Went home with a huge wound on my knee.

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It was dad who taught me how to swim. When I was still learning, he’d tell me to start at one point and swim towards him. As I did that, he’d always move backwards a little bit. I’d always feel cheated. But I truly am grateful that he did that because that taught me to not be afraid of the water.

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Dad also taught me how to ride a bike. He spent hours and hours with me, teaching me, holding the bike while I was finding my balance. I remember vividly the feeling I had when he first let go and I was pedaling on my own.

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I remember the first (?) fight we had. I accused him of not believing in me. He went in my room that night and told me he was sorry for whatever he said.

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I remember the phone call I made to him when I told him I might not graduate as expected on my fourth year of college. I was crying like the world was about to end. He told me it was okay but he did not tell me that when I called, he was already confined at a hospital.

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I think my dad and I have this special connection because sometimes I’d hear him calling me. I’d run to wherever he was in our house and I’d asked him what it is. He’d say he didn’t call me but he was just thinking of me. Weird, I know.

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Dear Dad,

Thank you for everything you did for me and for everything you continue to do for me even if you didn’t have to. I’ve broken your heart a hundred different times in a hundred different ways. I am sorry. I promise I will never stop trying to be a better daughter to you and mom. I’ll make you happy one day and someday you will stop worrying about me. I love you more than I can ever imagine.

Love,

Christie

 

Wrong Reasons

It started for all the wrong reasons

He was lonely

She was helpless

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He was tired and broken

She was young and vibrant

Like broken pieces they fit each other perfectly

And made one another whole

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It was songs and sunsets

Cool breeze and warm drinks

Until the wrong reasons

Caught up to them

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Then there were tears

And crazy drunken nights

To make that which was broken

Whole again

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Goodbyes had to be said

This time, in different places,

He’s lonely once again

She’s helpless

Now, broken, too.

 

You and I

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One day, we’ll sit together, beer in our hands and smiles on our faces. We’ll talk about how we used to be. You’d tell me about all the adventures you’ve had, the loves you’ve loved, and the life you’ve had.

I’d tell you about all the stories I haven’t told you, the crazy things I never thought I’d do, the beautiful views I’ve seen, and all the loves I’ve loved. I’d ask you more questions than I ever had the chance before. I’d get to know you again. Heck, I’d get to know more.

I always wonder about how it will be when we see each other. Will it be the same us with just a different you and I? Will it be like not a decade passed between us? Will having you beside me be familiar?

Or will we be strangers? Mere faces in both our distant memories. We’ll share the same stories but the people in our stories are different from the ones beside us. Will we share the same awkward hello as the first time we met? Or will we hug each other as tight as we did when we said goodbye?

All these things I have yet to know. And I will continue to wonder until we meet again.