When I got married over two decades ago, I always visualized having
at least three or four children. Sweet, cuddly daughters and fine
young sons who would give us happiness and light up our lives. I
assumed that with my husband's brains and disposition coupled with my
zest for life, we would raise dynamite kids. But today we have only
one son and no daughter. Although he would grow up alone, he would
never be lonely. He would be a special child.
My husband has always played a major role in the upbringing of our
son. I give him a score of one hundred and one percent for all his
endeavors although even with his ability and competence, the
nurturing of this child was never easy. Since there is no school in
fatherhood that lays down the groundwork in rearing up a helpless
infant to adulthood, he has had to study the parenting course from A
to Z.
Today, fathers share the ordeal and pain in bringing up the kids
from the delivery room up to the time he marches down the aisle with
a son or daughter to give away in marriage. They take time out from
their busy jobs to attend school meetings, play basketball and other
countless games, watch sports on TV, tackle homework and do any of
the 100 other things that define fatherhood. They leave impressions
on their children's lives in different ways. And I do know from
experience that it's the simple, common, ordinary things that seem to
have the most impact on our children.
In the previous generation, the role of a father was solely
patriarchal. All of us loved our Dads but we quaked in fear whenever
he raised his voice. We respected and admired him but we were afraid
to ask permission or rub him the wrong way. They always seemed to set
certain standards and norms for us to follow and there was none of
the intimacy, casualness and openness that kids have today with their
fathers.
I am now remembering my father who was always roaming the world's
seven seas. He was seldom home and his infrequent homecomings were
major events in our young lives. Even then, I always knew he played
favorites and he always brought home the nicest gift for our youngest
sister. My brothers and my other sister tried our best to curb
jealous streaks but we could never rationalize the logic of it all.
We accepted his decision and abided with his choice. We just learned
to live with it.
And like everything else, what goes around, comes around. Life has
come to a full circle. I have finally exorcised the demons of my
childhood. Now that I have a child of my own, I quite understand why
many fathers have a special child. Of course they try their utmost
best to give equal and fair treatment to all their children but if
they have a favored one, that's perfectly normal. They cannot help it
for they are only human.
I know my father kept a special corner in his heart for this one
child who has inherited not only his coloring and looks but also his
vagabond blood. This sister who never answered back when scolded,
easily smiled and laughed and never failed to send him cute cards and
funny letters. He found it easy to understand her moods better than
the rest of us. She gave him fewer problems and was a very lovable
and giving child.
Spanning this fragile and enduring relationship close to five
decades now, I am now verbalizing these thoughts that lay buried
within me. I want to tell him that I totally comprehend his feelings
towards my youngest sister and why he was able to love and see her as
the important daughter. I want to tell him that in spite of
everything, I truly appreciate the time, love, regard and effort he
shared with us. The beauty of it all is at this time I have come to
realize that life hasn't ended after my mom's death. Rather, I am
definitely doing my best to bridge the gap by being there for him now
that he is alone and lonely. So for you Papa, belated Happy Father's
Day!
