lifeoflemski

 

For 25 years, I've sent a couple of letters to Mama. But I have never made one for you. I would talk with Nina in Yahoo Messenger, and I would exchange text messages with Alman. But I never dared to talk to you unless when you're the one who's going to pick up on the other line. 

 

It's ironic how I wasn't really able to tell you how much you mean to me, and yet how you are so generous of showing it to your first-born daughter. I would never forget those many times that you've defended me from Mama or how you always tried to save me from deep embarassment. I hated you every time you did that, because it made me feel like I was inadequate. Looking back, though, I completely understand what you did. You knew that I knew that I made a mistake. It's enough. It's time to bring me back to my two feet with your and Mama's help. 

 

Pa, I grew up without having you around for most of the time. I remember how when I was eight years old, you left us to work someplace far. You didn't turn your back to look at us again the moment you stepped out of the door, not because you didn't want to but because I knew that the parting hurt you the most. I also didn't want to see you cry, because it would definitely break my heart into a million pieces. Even if you're afar, you've showered me with so many letters that I never get tired of reading, even until now. I remember how you bought me a gown for my first kiddie pageant and decided to iron it, only to realize that you've burned holes into it. Nevertheless, you still exerted effort to give me the most decent gown available. You seldom come home, not because you're too tired, but because we're growing up. You'd rather sacrifice your time with us than not give us money for food and education. 

 

I admire how you love Mama. I can hardly count with my fingers the number of times you've fought with each other. In fact, there was a time when you decided to leave us. Yet your great love for Mama always brings you back to us. You may appear to be stiff for most of the time, a man with pride, but at the end of the day, I know you're the one who makes the 

first move to say I'm sorry. 

 

Pa, I miss my childhood days, when we'd travel--just the two of us--from Boljoon to the city and back. It was always a pleasant ride not because I see a lot of things, but because I feel secure with you around. I remember the way you'd let me sit on your lap, or the way you'd let me rest my head on your shoulder when I'm deeply tired. 

 

Now that I'm married, I'm wishing that I have spent more time with you. I wish I had not grown up so fast and pursued other things immediately. Time flew so fast, but then I know that I'd always be a Papa's girl. It will never change. 

 

Love you, Pa.