TO YOU WHO DESERVE MUCH BETTER THAN THIS

Today, November 27, 2009 is the 88th birthday of my father, FACUNDO EJE Y VALENZUELA. I am already good to be his granddaughter, but I am so gratified of being his youngest. Fifteen rushing minutes before 12MN: and all I can utter to myself is an endless, "I miss you, dad" between my sobbing thought.

I have so much to say. I have so much inside.

You know the feeling when you’re so much waiting for something and suddenly you realized that you just missed the last bus going home. Erase. I do not think I explained it well. I am bad with explanation, always.

P.S. dad, I am culpable of my gibberish stuff. No, they are not really my priorities. God knows. But I am complied to do those. I am sorry.

let me repost this entry from my multiply account:

"Some fish are sad. And some fish are glad. And some are very very bad. Why are they sad and bad? I do not know. Go ask your Dad!" - Dr. Seuss.

But dad is no longer there.(What a terrible advise Dr. Seuss!). I could stumble all over, do my tantrums like a four year old toddler, scream. But no dad will show up. There will be no dad to answer my queries. 

I lost my dad when i was 13, or maybe i lost him even before he's really gone. I do not know. That would be another story i'm still not ready to discuss. So i am left with no option but to find the answers myself. I took psychology in college, expecting different theorist will answer my queries. Somehow, it gave explanations with my how's and why's. Psychologist's explanations are actually perfect, but i must admit, i'm still not satisfied. At the back of my head, i'm thinking if Dad got a different explanation. And i start missing him. I start wondering how it feels to be in a father's arms once again,. how it feels to listen to a father's advise. I'm dying to hear from him. There was a time when the mere sight of a family create blue atmosphere in me.

I remember when i was a kid, about five or six. During night-time after dinner, i would knock at his bedroom door with a bar of clay in my hands. i would ask him to make something out of it and he would always make me miniatures of farm animals. My dad loves animals. cows, dogs, cats, doves, horses, name it, surely he would love it. He's so fond of taking care of those. and of course, the miniatures were so perfect in my innocent eyes and with my five year old mind then, i thought that when mid night comes. they would come alive.

And now, it's been eight years since i last saw him. but 8 years is never enough to heal the pain. to compensate all the longing and missing. I will always miss him. I will always miss the way he sings the happy birthday song. There is something on the way he sings it that makes one so special.

Well, i may have good explanations about life right now, thanks to all the psychology and self help books, and also with experiences i had. They taught me a lot about life. but i know, one day, i'll meet him again, and one by one, he will explain to me everything. "