fifty-seven and twenty five.
my father is a simple man. at the same time, the greatest man i have ever known.
it's his fifty-seventh birthday today, but he hasn't made plans to go to a special place to celebrate. he hasn't asked for special treatment or favors or anything of the sort. as i write this, he is going about his day the way he usually does, a few moments of random conversation here and there with whomever is in the same room with him, preparing lunch, picking up a few stray leaves from our garden, waiting for us sisters to be complete, smiling at the babies.
he has asked for nothing but our company and our time. he wants nothing but to celebrate his day with people he has loved completely, and given much to, often with seemingly nothing in return.
in a few weeks, he will join the class of 83 of UP Law in celebrating their 25th year as lawyers. i have seen a few of them, i have heard a few of them speak, i have observed how they act around each other. and i have met the rich, the famous, the notorious, the quiet, the happy, and the loud.
i have no doubt they have much to be proud of. and i suppose if other people see my father and his achievements in relation to his class, he might not be seen to have achieved much.
however, the measure of the man my father is is not for me the size of the house he has built for us or the places we have visited through his beneficence or any other material thing which most other people seem to use to gauge a man's achievements.
my father's measure as a man is in the quality of the sacrifices he has made for us, the joy he takes in being with us, raising us. it is in the simple pleasures that he delights in, never wanting more than he can afford, never asking for more than he feels he deserves.
we have not grown up in a huge house or in an extremely materially privileged manner. we have grown up, however, with a father who in every moment has nothing but our welfare and happiness in mind, who asks for nothing but perhaps a moment of peace and quiet, a nice cold beer to pass the time, a book to read in the afternoon hours.
we have had extremely good times and periods of difficulty. but in all those days where it probably seems to him that the sun would never shine its grace on him again he has never faltered in his faith, he has never given a thought to turning away from his principles in order to ease his burdens.
he serves his clients always to the best of his ability, always compassionate, always competent. as a lawyer he has never ever led anyone down dark and unscrupulous paths, and he has never allowed himself to be led down those same paths.
his brothers and sisters look to him as a father, seeking his guidance and his company even in their adult years. he has always been that, i suppose. a serious man people naturally come to for solace.
we, his daughters, have in one way or another disappointed him, added to his burdens, added to the gray in his hair. but should anyone dare to say something unpleasant about any of us to him, and you will earn his enmity. he has lived his life for us, ever since the day the first one of us was born. he knows of our faults, but he takes pride in our progress as human beings.
maybe during the 25th year celebration he will seem to observers an ordinary man among shiny and great people.
to me he will shine the brightest, as someone who has lived fifty-seven years thus far with unconditional love, absolute loyalty, and unshakeable integrity as his always present company.
arguably, he has lived a greater man and human being than some of the seemingly shiny people i will ever see.
happy birthday pappy.
it's his fifty-seventh birthday today, but he hasn't made plans to go to a special place to celebrate. he hasn't asked for special treatment or favors or anything of the sort. as i write this, he is going about his day the way he usually does, a few moments of random conversation here and there with whomever is in the same room with him, preparing lunch, picking up a few stray leaves from our garden, waiting for us sisters to be complete, smiling at the babies.
he has asked for nothing but our company and our time. he wants nothing but to celebrate his day with people he has loved completely, and given much to, often with seemingly nothing in return.
in a few weeks, he will join the class of 83 of UP Law in celebrating their 25th year as lawyers. i have seen a few of them, i have heard a few of them speak, i have observed how they act around each other. and i have met the rich, the famous, the notorious, the quiet, the happy, and the loud.
i have no doubt they have much to be proud of. and i suppose if other people see my father and his achievements in relation to his class, he might not be seen to have achieved much.
however, the measure of the man my father is is not for me the size of the house he has built for us or the places we have visited through his beneficence or any other material thing which most other people seem to use to gauge a man's achievements.
my father's measure as a man is in the quality of the sacrifices he has made for us, the joy he takes in being with us, raising us. it is in the simple pleasures that he delights in, never wanting more than he can afford, never asking for more than he feels he deserves.
we have not grown up in a huge house or in an extremely materially privileged manner. we have grown up, however, with a father who in every moment has nothing but our welfare and happiness in mind, who asks for nothing but perhaps a moment of peace and quiet, a nice cold beer to pass the time, a book to read in the afternoon hours.
we have had extremely good times and periods of difficulty. but in all those days where it probably seems to him that the sun would never shine its grace on him again he has never faltered in his faith, he has never given a thought to turning away from his principles in order to ease his burdens.
he serves his clients always to the best of his ability, always compassionate, always competent. as a lawyer he has never ever led anyone down dark and unscrupulous paths, and he has never allowed himself to be led down those same paths.
his brothers and sisters look to him as a father, seeking his guidance and his company even in their adult years. he has always been that, i suppose. a serious man people naturally come to for solace.
we, his daughters, have in one way or another disappointed him, added to his burdens, added to the gray in his hair. but should anyone dare to say something unpleasant about any of us to him, and you will earn his enmity. he has lived his life for us, ever since the day the first one of us was born. he knows of our faults, but he takes pride in our progress as human beings.
maybe during the 25th year celebration he will seem to observers an ordinary man among shiny and great people.
to me he will shine the brightest, as someone who has lived fifty-seven years thus far with unconditional love, absolute loyalty, and unshakeable integrity as his always present company.
arguably, he has lived a greater man and human being than some of the seemingly shiny people i will ever see.
happy birthday pappy.
posted by peach at 4:56 PM
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