I never thought I would see the day my father would cry. I
did. Fortunately, I just saw it in pictures. It would have been heartbreaking to actually see him crumble.
My father is an epitome of strength, sometimes bordering
into sternness. I can still vividly remember the days when my Papa sat beside
me, coaching me through my Math subjects in grade school no matter how
exasperated I was in solving gazillions of equations. He was the reason I loved
Math.
My father did not show a lot of emotions. In
fact, back then, I felt that I was disappointing him all the time. Not
graduating valedictorian in high school or dropping out of the dean’s list
because of stupid swimming classes and failing the physical examinations.
But two weekends ago, on June 17, everything in the past did not matter. During our “last” dance, the love that
was very hard to pin down, was so staggering it was like an avalanche. I knew, in my heart, that all these times, he was nothing but a father proud of his daughter.
As the song, You Can
Let Go Now Daddy played, I tried so hard to fight the tears. But there it
welled.
My relationship with my dad was never vocal. There were no
frequent “I love you’s” nor hugs nor heart-to-heart conversation. But I know
that I will always be, despite the change in my last name, his little
Amechachurra girl – a daughter before I became a wife to somebody. In his
family before I have a family of my own.
So to you, Papa, let us just get this out of my system – Thank you
so much for everything. I love you. Unconditionally.
Belated Happy Fathers' Day.
xx,
Your Eldest :)
