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My name is Lorraine, born in 1987, from the Philippines.I like cats, chocolate pudding, dark mocha frappes, the scent of glossy-paged books, and old couples in love. You see I'm not very good at self-descriptions, but if you'd like to read on, then... Archives
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 Of Fragmented Thoughts and Fragile Things Posted on Wednesday, May 2, 2012 8:06 PM with 0 comment(s) | add comment
I wrote this a couple of years ago at a writing workshop. I don't know why it took me so long to publish it. This is a memoir. A series of letters from a daughter to her father. They used to love each other very much. That was until lies, selfishness, and a foolish sense of pride got in the way.
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Dear Papa,
I miss you. I miss the way we were as a family. I miss everything that we used to be. What happened to us? Gone are the days when we’d go out together, see a movie, and go grocery shopping. I remember, I’d always take a seat under the shopping cart, and try to sneak in some items when we pass by the snack section (Mama always catches me, though). We’d also go to Shakey’s or Pizza Hut. We always ordered the Family sized pizzas. Now all I ever get to eat are Solos and Doubles. Everything’s never as it used to be. What happened?
Love,
Me
Dear Papa,
I wonder. Do you know what my best childhood memories are? One is whenever I see or hear the two of you laughing together, or simply spending time together—doing the groceries, or going out to watch movies. I used to swell with pride telling my friends that even though you are both in your 40s, you guys still go on dates during the weekends. Remember those days when you even wore color-coordinated clothes? One day you’d be the green couple, and on another day, purple. I used to snicker at your teenager-like tackiness, but deep inside I felt like a giddy little girl, cheeks pressed against her knuckles, watching as her parents go on their way. “Don’t be late!” I would call out teasingly. Do you remember?
Love,
Me
Dear Papa,
Pa, I’m sorry I’m not as I was before. No more is the vivacious little girl who sat on your lap and waited intently every night for your made-up bedtime stories about Cinderella Part VIII or the Little Mermaid Part XII (I really enjoyed them, unlike Mama’s Alamat ng Asin).
Now I have become aloof and lazy as you say, and also emotionally detached. Due to my own failures, short-comings, and misgivings, I’ve been called a good-for-nothing daughter, and a total waste of all the efforts you as my parents invested in raising me. My choice of what to major in college is foolish and will get me nowhere, and all my interests are, at the very least, immature, senseless, and not worth your time. I am useless. Somehow those words have become ingrained in me. It seems as though what you say became who I am. Since I found no one in the house interested enough to share my life with, I eventually just kept inside my own shell. I also told no one of my problems. Nobody knew how depressed I was despite my cheerful appearance. Pa, I never had any doubts about you and Mama’s love for me. I know that. But maybe I just needed more appreciation.
Love, Me
Dear Papa,
Pa, mahal namin kayo. We may not be like your friends who know how to express their concern and appreciation, but we’re your family. Nobody can ever change that fact. Please do not leave us again. You once left for Saudi before, and that is enough. I don’t know what else to say, and I don’t want to sound preachy like I know it all (because I know I don’t), but perhaps if we put this all behind us, and work on regaining each other’s trust, respect, and love, maybe we can be a happy family like we were before. While I may not be the perfect daughter, nor be the same little girl that delighted you, but I’ll try. And I’ll try harder. I used to look up to you when I was little. To me you were always “the fun parent”—the one who made me laugh, the one who does not nag when I screw up over the tiniest of things, the one who understands. If you truly are the positive person you say you are, then please give me hope.
Love,
Me
Dear Pa,
I have a question: How do you trust or even respect someone who takes you for a fool and lies to you repeatedly? I feel angry, betrayed, and even disgusted. They say the truth will always come out, and that we will reap what we sow. I just hope it comes sooner than later, because right now I am terribly mixed up. I just don’t know what to believe in anymore. But still, I write this with
Love,
Me
Dear Pa,
So now, you are blaming me. I cannot believe this is happening.
All I ever wanted was to have a happy, peaceful family. Regarding that... Monette. I did not even know what her name was! To me she was just someone trying to take you away from us. Contrary to what you're saying, I NEVER fed mama any of my suspicions. I kept to myself! That's what I've always done all my life in this family! After that first incident with that woman, I was hoping you'd never do that again. I believed in you. But you shattered my beliefs soon after. I inadvertently found out you were at it again... Hushed calls, late night private messaging, and full-blown confessions on the web... I did not have mere suspicions. But what did I do? Did I tell Mama about this? I felt so sorry for her because she was being taken advantage of, but I never told her because I knew it would only worsen things! Instead I prayed you would realize your wrongdoings on your own, and stop while you still could. But look what happened. Mama found out the truth on her own. When you two were shouting and bickering at each other, did you even know how your daughters felt?! You have no idea how much you hurt us.
I just wish you realize that even with a huge thorn in my heart, I love you still. But now, you are blaming me for ruining our family? That is just so shocking and sad. Now, I wonder if you still
Love Me
Dear Papa,
Somehow you've destroyed my belief in real love. If my own marriage would turn out like yours in the end, then I'd rather not get married at all. God knows how long it took me before I finally trusted one guy to love me, and not end up hurting me like you did.
How I wish you never did what you did. Mama can be the typical nagging wife at times, but she doesn’t deserve that. Nobody does. I wish you never lied to cover up your mistakes. That just made everything worse. I forgave you, thinking you would never do it again. I really wish you realize how much I still love you despite everything. I love you so much, and I always will. But I just can't be close to you anymore. I wish you could be happy again.
Even without mom. Even without me.
Love,
Me
Labels: dear papa, essay, i'm sick and tired of it, memoir, stop the bullshit  |
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