two people.

nothing much to say. you should know that you are still the most beautifullest of all. (i remember the term i used when i was in my third grade, when my teacher ask us to draw and describe our parents, and i drew you and dad, you in your ribboned hair and checkered chinese collared white blouse  and pencil cut blue skirt. and dad in his long sleeved and famous hat. i thought you were a teacher because you looked like one, so i told the class that you were. maybe my taecher was surprised and laughing at me that time. well, i do not care. what i want is you to be happy. happy birthday, mother!

dad, this day is also for you. for all i know,  you will always be the only handsome man i know who ever existed in this lifetime. and i think i won't marry any guy because of that! hehe. i ♥ you BIG!

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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. "

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it kills that i just watched you as you slowly walked away.

I miss my father. And thinking about how nice it would feel if I could also busy myself thinking of the most excellent gift i could give him for father’s day.

I miss him, and thinking what he would tell me if I tell him that I think I am in love, and again, broken hearted.

I miss him, and thinking what he would do if I tell him that someone bullied me, and some girls talked nasty things about me, that I was backstabbed , and I was so angry.

I miss him, and thinking how nice it would be if I would have the chance to massage his aching feet again, and I would talk about how the day was, what I bought from Ka Pisi, the games I played, what I want to do when I grow up.

I miss him, and thinking what he would say, now that I am already working, getting enough salary to buy him a perfume, though not as what he expected me to be, wearing my office uniform and high-heeled shoes.

I miss him, and thinking about the comfort I would receive if I tell him that I do not know how it is to trust again. That I am no longer the sweet girl who hides his slippers in the morning so I know where to get it in the afternoon when he comes back home.

I miss him, and will continue to miss him every time the cruel world reminds me that, no matter how envious I become whenever I see a complete happy family, I will never have a father that I could run to.

Dad, I miss making coffee for you. really, i do.

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my dad once told me to choose the people i hang around with and sometimes i feel like i am failing him.

“Choose your friends by their character and your socks by their color. Choosing your socks by their character makes no sense, and choosing your friends by their color is unthinkable.”

I got this quote this morning from a friend via email. And it reminds me of my father. I remember what my Dad always used to tell me when I was a kid – “You need to choose your friends”. (I have to tell you, my dad was such a strict person, you could count his words and they were so firm it’s gonna scare you but he always talked to me in the most sweetest way I could remember)) He was very particular with the kids I used to hang around with. He would ask about the parents of those kids. I used to hate it because I’m an advocator of anti-discrimination. I thought he was just being so judgmental- and to please him, I would just play alone in my mother’s garden talking to my imagined friends. What I didn’t realize then was that he just cares a lot and that he just wanted to protect me from careless and ruthless people. And I miss him. I miss him every time I feel betrayed. Every time I encounter despicable people. Every time I feel like running back home.

Happy Birthday, Dad! i may sometimes be stupid and crazy but I am always keeping your words in my head.

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