i, his girl... always

and he is structure -- my papang... my main man... always.

-¤-
i lost count how many times i wanted to go back to those days when i was the little girl...

...who reached up to him so i could be scooped up into his arms and be able to put my sleepy head on his shoulder and wrap my small arms around his neck.

...who watched him as he gently held my tiny fingers to clean and trim my nails.

...who grinned from ear to ear, giggling with laughter, babbling happily about some things as i sat on his shoulders and felt like a princess who had everyone at her beck and call.

...who stayed near the door and patiently waited for him day after day until he came home.

...who gamely told him stories of how i spent the day, why i got a new wound, or how i "heroically" dealt with a mishap.

...who played under his drawing table, turning the wingnuts found on his table's supports and pretending them to be control knobs of my spaceship. (hehehe. oo, bata pa lang ako, may tama na ako!)

...who shocked him with my boldness to fire a rubber bullet into his father's (my lolo's) foot because it was resting on our table and not on the floor.

...who asked him for his scratch papers and demanded for colored pens because i wanted to draw my own house even if all i could manage to do that time was to stain the papers.

i know i can't go back to those days. the girl that i am today is already years and leaps apart from the little girl that i was, yet there are things far better than my childhood memories with papang that continue to stay with me...

his time, his unconditional love, his passion for providing for the family and giving us what money cannot buy, his showing us what things in life are truly important, his good values, the freedom that he gave me and my brother, his support and guidance through his sound decision-making skills, his genes, his name.


thank you, Lord, for giving me a good father and making me a blessed girl.