It’s Monday. And it’s you birthday.
Growing up, my Monday morning was always filled with excitement with you trying to get us ready for school. You’d check on us one by one, making sure we proceeded with our morning routines in schedule while you prepare breakfast because you’d never let us go with an empty stomach. It’s funny when I imagine you trying to get uncontrollable kids in order. But you did it. And you did it every single day. We grew with you always by our side. Relentless. Never ceasing.
As a person, you weren’t perfect. You never tried to appear perfect and I am not about to ruin that. You have done things you were not so proud of. Your friends would tell us your “adventures” back when you were younger and I admit there were things that were kinda off. Hehe. Again, as a person you were not perfect but as a father, you were.
I can’t forget that time when we were just silently sitting beside each other when you suddenly expressed your frustration of not having the ability to provide the best things for us. Knowing how you always wanted to pamper us, I understood it was difficult for you. But what you forgot was, you may not have given us the luxury that you wanted for us to have, but you have given us the greatest gift ever – yourself. And that was more than enough.
Up to your last days, you thought of us. Even when your health was greatly challenged, you hanged on. You wanted to know that we are all OK before you leave. And you did just that.
They said you were a great man, I say you are. Always.
Happy Birthday Papa…