A Letter

Here’s a letter my dad posted as a comment on my previous blog a week ago. I’ve asked his permission to post it here as well. Kindly read on.

A Letter I’ll Write My Son, Jet, When I’m 60

Dear Jet,

I’d like to ask a favor. For my Birthday, Christmas, or Father’s Day, I don’t want another shirt. Or three pairs of socks. Or a bottle of whisky or brandy. Or rubber shoes.

Take a good look at me. My face has more wrinkles now. I’m getting old and these “things” don’t give me the joy that they used to. Do you want to make me happy, son? Stop giving me things. Instead, give me your presence.

Now I know you’re a busy man. Grown up and important. You’ve got a million things to do. You’ve got your own priorities. I understand, son. I really do. But once in awhile, do drop by or even just a text, and tell me you remember me.

I’ll be in ecstasy, if you bring me out for lunch (maski ako ang taya). Or bring me in any place you want — just the two of us (maski ako man giraray ang taya). Let’s talk about everything and anything. I’d like to laugh with you again. The same way we did when I used to bring you out, pasyar sa downtown maski mayong kuarta; when you were tiny enough that I could carry you in my arms when you slept through a movie; and when your favorite topic of conversation was about WHAT IS MOSS? and Cartoons and lots of questions. Oh Jet, I miss you so much.

I want you to know that every so often, I open your room and your cabinet. In it are your clothes, things. And in case you didn’t know, I still like looking at our old photo albums. In these old photos, I see you as a shy good looking child hiding behind your mother’s skirt. I can still vividly remember your picture taken during the Search for Ms. & Mr. Kiddy Garden. You were wearing a white tuxedo, though, I can’t remember know where I got the money, wheew, that’s P800 bucks jet. Hehehe. I see you blowing candles on your birthday cake. When you cry, I carried you in my arms and wipe the tears flowing down on your cheeks. Remember when you played in the monkey bar at the Manila Zoo? Oh your mommy and I and even your sister, nini, were so worried and afraid when you fell but change it with laughter, when we you’re okay. Why we laughed? Well, because when you fell, your eyes were so big and rounded.

Reminiscence rush over me like a river. My heart swells with pride as I think of you. Oh, how proud I am that you’re my son.

But you know what, son? Looking back all these memoirs makes me feel old. Very old. I’m struck at how unforgiving time is. Yes, it flies. And time will continue to fly ever so swiftly, and one day, I will be gone.

But mark my words, Jet. Each day, in Heaven, I shall watch over you. My love will continue beyond the grave, beyond the boundaries of heaven and earth. My love for you will remain forever.

Son, I’m still here. With you. While I’m on planet earth, once in awhile, give me your presence. When you were 7 years old, you used to shout, “Daddy, I love you,” and instantly, I’d get a lump in my throat, my eyes would moisten, and my chest would be filled with warmth.

Jet, after all these years, you’re a grown up man now. But nothing has changed between us. Tell me those words again, “Daddy, I love you,” and instantly, I’d still get a lump in my throat, my eyes would still moisten, and my chest will still be filled with warmth.

Noy, let’s make an agreement: No matter how corny it gets, let’s not stop hugging each other. The older I am, the more I need those hugs. I don’t want a shirt. I want you, son, even if it’s just a few minutes of your time.

Love,

Dad

PS: Why did I write this Letter? Just to let you know, I’ll be 50 next year. I’m still 14 years away from 60. So why write this letter? To remind myself the most important things in life.

At the end of the day, I’m wealthy not because of the money in the bank but because of the love in my relationships. I’ll never be happy in life if I’m not happy in my family relationships.

I urge you to always put your family first. This is your most important wealth!