My Father's Daughter

Strict. Intimidating. Passionate. Tough. Relentless. That's how people usually see the man whom I simply call... Dad. I'm 29 years old and I'm not ashamed to say that I still don't mind holding my Dad's hand when we take a stroll at the mall or just lounge around with him on the rare occasion that he gets to sit on the sofa with us, while he flips the channels from one news channel to another. CNN. Fox News. BBC. Oh how I dreaded those channels when I was a teenager. I mean c'mon...so what if they're talking about nuclear warheads in the news? We have to focus on issues that are totally relevant..like how am I going to convince my Dad to convince my Mom to let me go to that birthday party without having the nanny tag along? My parents are experts when it comes to entrapment. Oh yes, you can go but...you have to take the nanny with you. Say Huuuwhhaattt?

My Daddy-yo is a lawyer so he travels a lot. It comes with the territory and I've grown accustomed to it since I was a young, innocent, angelic (just go with it) child. My favorite part was when the world weather report came on and featured the capital cities... I'd ask him if he's been to this city, or that city and he would simply smile and nod to most of them. ~~Move over, Dora. Looks like you got more exploring to do.~~

Photo from nickjr.com

During the peak of his constant travels, we got into the tradition of dropping off and fetching Dad at the airport and it didn't matter if he was going to be gone for a couple of hours, days or weeks..I'd still be there sitting at the back of the old family van, waiting for him to emerge from the arrival area with his briefcase in one hand and a big, familiar smile on his face.

I can't tell you how many times I used to get owned by Dad when I was younger..you know, that stage when kids would annoyingly ask random questions, every minute of everyday? Dad, why is it called like this? Where does this come from? What does this do? What is it made of? To my surprise, Dad would shoot down my questions with answers one by one.. How the heck does he know these things? Google didn't even exist yet. From then on, there was only one thing to conclude..My dad is a walking encyclopedia.

Photo from britannica.com

Now that I'm older and wiser (like I said, just go with it), I realize that Dad wasn't there to build a tree house for me nor was he there to teach me how to ride a bike. No..he was there to teach me more viable things than that. He taught me to be respectful to others in order to gain respect. He taught me that books are windows of the world,you don't need to travel to learn so much. He showed me that even when you think you own the world, you don't. And when all else fails, pray.

I wish I took care of this picture better. Dad looks like he's got big holes on his trousers. Ha!

Dad never tried to be a friend to me, he was always a father and I'm thankful for that. I needed someone to discipline me and prepare me for what's to come. He's the living proof that good guys and REAL men do really exist. In fact, he's the reason why I'm not a man-hater. Everyday he goes to work, comes home to his wife and kids, has no vices, doesn't go golfing or waste money at the casino's even though most men of his stature do. Despite the fact that he has attained much success in all aspects in his life, he has managed to remain a simple, grounded man. You can imagine my delight when I started dating Miguel and realized that he has a common, if not, similar disposition just like my Dad. Now if only my boyfriend didn't look like a terrorist, then he would have been just like my Dad. Oh well, we can't have it all, can we?

Thank you Dad, for giving me a happy childhood. When I grow up, I want to be just like you..after all, I am my father's daughter! =)