POP! Goes My Heart

Oh, I hear Hugh Grant singing at the back of my head and that kind of makes it more difficult to write something about a complex being.

Today, I dedicate an entire blog entry to the man who has the biggest chunk of my heart – my DAD. As early as now, I am betting this entry would lack coherence and order. It’s not easy to single out the best words to describe and express appreciation for the best man.

So, where do I start? See, I got wedged already. Perhaps it’s best to put it this way.

Yes, I look a lot like my dad.

My dad is well-respected not only in his abode but in all places he goes. He has an innate elegance and grace.

He is intelligent and gifted. He knows almost everything there is to know about the country, about the world. I miss setting my insomniac brain to rest with a discussion with him about airplanes to political system. He has an excellent managerial skill, because he sees everything in its every angle. He sketches first, and sketches more, until he feels that it would have a booming end. He provokes people to keep working. He makes them listen and tag on what he says. He wants it flawless, and people make it flawless, because he says so. In short, my dad has a hypnotic effect on people.

My dad has a good taste in almost everything. Believe it or not, he didn’t need someone to rally around to build and rebuild our home over and over. Well, of course he didn’t get to do the hammering and the digging and the drilling and all, but the concept is all his. He knows exactly what he wants, and what he wants always results to good, beautiful things, like where I live. When it comes to clothing, my dad is trendy, for his age at least. He is a clean-looking, good-smelling and well-groomed man. He enjoys some good music too. I’m lucky when he’s in the mood for a Norah Jones or The Corrs beat during a long ride.

My dad has been the best, and will always be the best. He drives me to places all the time. So when he’s not driving me, then it’s a hint that I’m having my own schema. Oooh, the guilt launches again. He is willing to fetch me on a Friday and bring me back to elbi the next day. Whenever I go home on weekends, I always hit upon my favorite biscocho he buys, just for me. He is also the best shopping partner. Sometimes, when I have rambled in every store in the mall and haven’t found anything yet, he would hand me something he got beneath a pile of marked down wardrobe, and the next thing I know, it fits perfectly to me.

Being away from him makes me realize every now and then how much he loves me, how much he loves us. The thought of him sending me a text message with a call card pin number, with a love tatay in the closing, lets me loose a few cackles and melts my heart at the same time.

My dad really is irreplaceable. He has funny and irritating habits that I have come to love. These are big and little things that make him so different from others, different yet so lovable.

During my elementary and high school years, I would always come in late in activities, Holy Mass, and all kinds of programs there were. I was almost late during my elementary graduation. A couple of hours is sometimes insufficient for him to get ready. He spends the first thirty minutes of every day plucking those tiny hairs under his chin.

My dad, because of clearing out his ears with cotton buds every single day, have become a little deaf. He yells to everyone when he thought he is just normally talking. At night, I can hear the slamming, crashing, pounding, battering, and slamming in the movie he watches to think that their room is pretty far from mine.

He also likes to ask me to hand him something that lies just beside him, considering that I’m like, a meter away (for the sake of expression, I’m not really good with measurements).

When we go malling, he always does brisk walking. In just seconds, I and my mom can get lost.

He has some pronunciation defect. Haha! One time, we were eating at Jollibee and he ordered himself a garden salad. He complained to the waiter because he said there are no chicken stripes on it. Haha.

In the face of my dad’s peculiarities, he makes the best father there could be in the whole world.

He may be annoying when through his gawks, it’s as if he estimates my body weight index while I’m halfway through a slice of chocolate cake. He may be getting on my nerves whenever he jokes that there are already numbers stamped in my fingers when he hears me pressing my keypads non-stop. Even so, it feels so pleasing to hear him brag about me. More than that, it feels so wonderful to be never too old to be cuddled by him.

My dad taught me a bunch of things to know about practically, life. He taught me how to be giving, to be respectful, to be honest, to be loyal, to think critically. He is a good example of an open mind and a huge heart.

His love insinuates itself right into my heart.

And today, on his special day, I want to tell him that I do love him and I’ll make him the proudest dad.

Happy Birthday Tatay. I love you!

And I am certain, everybody else does.