Days before Father’s Day, friends from Facebook have already been posting their sweet greetings to their respective fathers. Titles like: Greatest Dad, Forever Hero, King of my Heart, Idol, were but a few of the names they called their dads.

Honestly, I envy these friends of mine who have great relationships with their fathers. Father’s Day is one celebration I’m not that excited about. This was before I got married and had kids, of course.

When I was just a little girl, I had a close relationship with my Papa. I was exposed to music at an early age because he would play his LP’s on our turntable back then. I would always hear Earl Klugh, Crosby Stills and Nash, Paul Williams, BeeGees, Beatles and other jazz artists filling our house. For our local musicians, The Apo Hiking Society would be the first on his list. To this day, I enjoy listening to these artists and it would bring me back to when I was an innocent girl sitting on my Papa’s lap. I also remember every time he arrives from work, I would bring him his slippers and I would see the sock marks on his feet and legs. He used to smoke when I was young and I remember him doing some work around the house with a cigarette pursed on his lips. At times, he would be carrying my brother and I on his arms when it’s time to go home from a family day out.

Growing up, for me, also meant growing apart from him. Every morning he would be busy reading his newspaper during breakfast and soon would be rushing to the office. When he comes home at night, he would be glued to the TV. We never had real conversations as a tween, teen and young adult. He would always be quiet doing his own thing. But he would work hard and make sure we have food on the table, a house to live in, money for school needs etc. He was a good provider and generous too.

Unfortunately, they were not always in good terms with my mother, as I have expressed in my previous post, If OnlyBecause of these years of heartache and pain, I hated my parents. I blamed both of them for having a dysfunctional family. I have harbored that bitterness in my heart for years. Until I realized that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me more than my earthly father.

My perspective have changed and i realized that I needed to forgive both my father and mother. Even though my Papa never asked for forgiveness, I have already forgiven him.

Recently, I have been hurt by him again. I don’t know if it was intentional or not but it hurt really bad. I was at that point that I never wanted to see him again. I even thought of moving far, far away from him. But after the emotions died down and sanity kicked it, I realized I’m only hurting myself. He doesn’t even know how terrible I was feeling. When I confronted him about it days after, he just shrugged it off and said that we should not talk about it anymore.

I don’t want to push the issue anymore nor would I fight that battle. I would choose to still honor him even if I don’t feel like honoring him or even if I think he doesn’t deserve any respect. I have to love him even if at times he is unlovable.

Children obey your parents because you belong to The Lord, for this is the right thing to do. ‘Honor your father and mother.’ This is the first commandment with a promise: If you honor your father and mother, ‘things will go well for you and you will have a long life on the earth.’ Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger by the way you treat them. Rather, bring them up with the discipline and instruction that comes from The Lord. Ephesians 6:1-4

Now that he is alone in his house, he only has a helper with him, I decided to spend Father’s Day with him and my family. We got him a simple cake which was picked out by Jianne. We went to his house for lunch and he thanked us for the cake. We talked about the Father’s Day message in church and we agreed that it was a great message from our pastor. I jokingly told him that he should apply the message he heard

About Author

The love for writing began early in life however the passion slowly ebbed away by the waves of a so-called profession. But after years of changing diapers and pulling teeth, the reluctant writer emerges to live out the gift bestowed upon her by the gracious Father.

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