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* something I wrote for my cousin who also lost her father last year
Perhaps its in their birthdays that we miss our fathers the most - not on their death anniversaries, not on new years and not on father's day - but their birthday. Maybe its because this day is specially his and unlike during holidays where people go around greeting other people merry xmas, happy new year, or happy father's day, you know your father would've woken up feeling just a tad more special than usual today - this day, afterall, is only his. He may not say it out loud, or even confess to expecting anything special today but you know that deep inside, he's holding his breath, waiting for a reaffirmation of how his much life has touched yours and because we love them, we strive to bridge that expectation and more than anything else, strive to make them feel cherished, more so this day than any other day of the year.
It could be as simple as a phone call, asking him about what he's doing and how his life is going. It could be as quaint as a little package of simple things that has traveled halfway around the world. It could be as nice as a simple day together. Or it could be a surprise birthday party arranged through long distance calls to relatives close by.. It could be any or all of the above mentioned things and more. The only thread unifying everthing is the need to show love, pride and appreciation for everything they have given to us.
For the months they have spent lonely in faraway jobs just so they can bring home something to pay for our schooling. For the Christmases where they had to loan the money just so they can put something under the tree. For the little pats on the back, the little games and special day outs together when it was so obvious he needed the rest more. For being there during the crossroads in our life, trying so hard to be positive, supportive and unafraid when deep inside they quake with second thoughts and fear. For finally accepting us as grown ups and as friends.
Being a father is indeed not one of the easiest jobs on earth and it certainly isnt one of the jobs most appreciated or understood. Too easily, fathers are misunderstood as too hard, too strict, too uncaring or too demanding and more often than not, children grow closer to their mothers than their fathers.
Only when we grow up do we finally begin to understand the burden and responsibility of being a father. Providing direction and a future when they themselves sometimes do not know where to go, providing strength and stability when they themselves are sometimes about to give up, giving us Christmases to remember and taking us to vacations when they can oftentimes ill afford to do so.
Every father indeed has his own story, his own mistakes and his own regrets. We love them not for the actual things they have given us nor for the things they have done right, but given the things we have learned the hard way as we ourselves grew up to be adults or parents ourselves, we love them for simply giving fatherhood his best shot and for never giving up on his job although sometimes they may have wanted to leave everything behind. And oftentimes, that is enough.
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