What are we worried about?/Happy Father’s Day

I still cry at the things that I should be rejoicing about. But no, I really am crying… Why oh why?

Yesterday, today, tomorrow…

But what am I worried about? We go through this life… We work, we sleep, we work, then sleep again. Then we worry some more.

Happy father’s day! I am greeting my Dad. And also, my spouse, who is the father of my children. Happy father’s day to you. Also to all fathers out there.

Fathers, do you feel our pain? We mothers or wives… Do you feel us?

But then again, we take pride in holding our families. As wives, we take pride doing what we can just so the other family members are all safe. We don’t complain about a thing for as long as we are regarded well and good. No, even when we are not regarded well, we still insist on becoming a martyr. After all, we are the so-called light of the house.

I feel woes of the fathers. How lucky am I that I have a father. That I have a spouse. Without these forces, we would be incomplete as a family. On the other hand, I give my silent prayer to each one who has not experienced the presence of father or a spouse. God may grant the deepest desires of your hearts that in spite of not having the chance to have them that you are to create your families having them. My heart goes out to you, dear people. Please don’t hate me for speaking so.

And why am I here pouring my mixed emotions about everything? I am here right now as if I’ve put honey on my coffee accidentally. I imagine drinking such and oh sweet honey honey! Why are you in my coffee? I don’t like honey in my coffee.

The kids are out. I bet they are with their father right now. I was left on my own. I did not notice the passing of time as they were doing all sorts of things a while ago. But it has been echoing in my midst a while back what my moduling son kept on saying. Mama, it’s father’s day today. Mama, it’s father’s day today. Mama, it’s father’s day today. It is because it is June 16.

I refuted, it doesn’t have to be June 16 for us to celebrate father’s day! Every day is a father’s day if you really love your dad. Was my horizontal answer. Well, sorry, son. Your mother’s just so rude most of the time. Right? How will I ever cure the many cuts and wounds I keep giving to my children?

My problems don’t have to be the cause of their misery. C’mon c’mon c’mon. Lift the curtain, I want to get out. Lift the clouds hovering over my world. Go away you whatever you are. Leave me alone and my family!

I had to excuse myself countless times while I was tutoring my moduling son. New word yes, moduling. I had to go inside our room just to let out my grief. I am not free to just have emotional tantrums at the sala. Anyway, I kept doing that while mentoring my son.

Now that they are out, I am juggling between typing and folding garments. I had to do this not to let the steam out of the head. Once these are out, it’s hard to get things back.

Therefore, the clothes will understand my inconsistency. As my husband recently is doing. How stress free really to have a husband who used to be a nagger but now no more. Yes, happy father’s day to him. To my husband who has been a nagger. Who made me cry all those years just because he kept criticizing how I ate, how I looked, how I carried myself and how I did my thing. But I have come to accept that I had my shortcomings. Though it is wrong of him to have did it that way anyway. But past is past. At least now we are moving on to more curves in our lives. For as long as the husband doesn’t criticize the wife, then the wife will make just a wonderful family. It is a challenge every man has to take on.

But I still have my worries. I kept probing deeper in my heart, what am I worried about? Am I not worth more than these things on my table? Who waits to be picked up or used or carried? Am I not worth more than our chicken who doesn’t have the freedom to eat when it likes to eat? Our chicken obtained its freedom just this morning when hubby decided to let it out of the cage. Go, go , go and be a native chicken like you are called. It is the chicken they brought from the province. The other one was eaten the day they came. I kept warning them, my son and my hubby, “Don’t let it go away! It will come back as a soul or we would never be able to see it again. Have you forgotten the previous occasions that we set the chicken free and nothing returned?” But they insisted with what they wanted. Hmmm… Honestly… I have no words!

They see me as some carnivorous who would only eat animals and not care for them. Perhaps! So please don’t free it. On the other side of my mind, I’m glad for the chicken. Congrats dear! The master of the house freed you. Come back okay? We will cook you for this father’s day. Don’t you like that, chicken? Don’t worry, I will give more of your flesh to our master. I will be on a diet today so that I will give way to father’s day.

But then again, I am serious that if we really are thankful for our fathers, then we’d treat each day as if it were a father’s day. (And perhaps, mother’s, sister’s, brother’s, neighbor’s, friends’, etc day. That is, we do what’s right every day, treating every one the proper way.)

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

Dad, I still remember your words of wisdom. I am sorry I had to marry so soon. I never realized the weight of my actions until I carried the consequences on my shoulders. Truly, you are my dad. I wanted to let you know how much I love you. I fail you countless times. You requested that I collect songs to an mp4, those of Elvis Presley and all your favorite singers. You requested that I collect all Louis L'Amour’s that I could find any bookstore here in the city. But I failed your simple requests. But there is more important thing that I should do. That is, to truly honor your words. Let go of those music and books and enjoy being a farmer. You who is a retired janitor. I am proud of you! I just wish I have not given you so much anguish over my foolishness. Me, playing with finance until such time I have to bleed money out of nowhere just to get by peacefully each day. This I tell you from the bottom of my hypothalamus, “Happy birthday and I love you so much!”