IN THE END

 I hope when I die and all the stupid bad stuff comes out of me being narcissistic or selfish or aggressive or depressive or simply a bad person, I pray that my daughters will be wise enough to accept my imperfections and not let that define my legacy and the memories I have with them as a father.

May Art and Dylan not lean on any gray area because they know, in their hearts, that though their father is far from the ideal son or citizen or lover or even friend, he has done everything to be a good father — and that is enough.

I hope that they will understand that I was brought up in a trauma-bearing multicultural home with an absentee immature mom and a a patriarchal-thinking dad. Not that I am blaming my parents — it is what it is. They did their best. But I always wonder about the what-ifs.

I became so sensitive and angry and envious that I am what I am. I always needed validation.  I remember telling Dylan one time about my "pagtatampo" of her being not proud of me. Cringey. But I dont believe that parents shouldn't show weaknesses.

 Sometimes I wonder if being open was the right thing. But I know no other way.

I did my best when it comes to being a father. Yes, not economically. Yes, not distance-wise. I hope they still see all my efforts; how I am affected easily when it comes to my kids.

I hope they will defend my memory. Because nobody ever does. And nobody will. 

I love them both so much — art and dylan.

Both so different, both so unique.

Both came out from my flesh. I can see big pieces of myself in both of them. 

Dylan may be anxious (as I am) than the typical kid but she is naturally a kindhearted girl. She is born to lead. She adds magic to anything she touches. She knows what she wants. May she trust her instincts always and stand up for what she believes in, and avoid the pitfalls of pleasing anyone but herself - and her loved ones.

Art may be rowdy and hardheaded (as I am) but her search for uniqueness, her voice this early is astounding. She may crave attention, but I hope she realizes that she doesn't need it because her presence commands it without effort. Her lightheartedness can turn a dark room bright. May she learn to slow down and focus on her gifts and not take it for granted. May she have the fire to learn and learn more and not let ego get in the way.

I am sorry I wasn't that around and telephone calls can't ever replace the real thing. I try. Not enough, but I tried.

I love you.

***These letters are not addressed to anyone. But I hope it finds its ways to my kids when time is right.***