While talking about our children two nights ago, a bosom friend and a brother in the legal profession bragged about a letter sent to him by his kids contained in a torn bond paper. The letter, almost crumbling, goes:
Dear Tatay,
In a world of imperfect relationships between fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, the ties that bind slowly diminish into nothing but mere wisps of respect and tradition.
But under your watchful eyes, we, your daughters, have grown with strength and power within. Through your watchful guidance, we have been ushered into adulthood, armed with wisdom, intellect and grace. With your loving arms, we learned to hold on to each other for support, love each other, and protect each other from harm.
With this simple gift, we thank you. We know that whatever happens, we will always come out stronger and unscathed, because we have you.
One day, we will raise our children wonderfully and lovingly. . . like what you did for us.
I know. Because I have my tatay’s eyes. We love you.
Yr, Koki, Dingkay
Such a heartwarming letter reminds me of my own father who passed away 18 years ago. Wherever he is right now, I believe he still watches over me, wanting me to be strong, to be wise and to be graceful in whatever I do.
Yet, from wherever he is right now, I am sure he also has much regret and disappointment that our country’s leaders, whom we regard as our fathers or mothers, have not become what they needed to be.
Our nation has become a house divided where most of the children wish to be away from home and find their own destiny in either a very cold or very hot far away place.
I once felt so confused that in our family, a brother once left when we were young and made “layas”, perhaps feeling aggrieved and discontented of being in the house. Soon after, he returned and found our home warmer than the places he went to.
By the looks of it, the mother of this country will soon become a tyrant, not with a loving heart of a mother, but that of an iron-fisted woman who would readily crush those who wish to defy her mandates. She has reached an all time record of butchering more than 800 young activists since she sat down as President. She has began to round off her political nemesis like Peewee Trinidad and Jejomar Binay. She is now surrounded not by her loving, idealistic children but by corrupt, haggard-looking “trapos” wanting to share the bounty from the ill-gotten wealth she has amassed.
Our very own father in this community has also not done his part in arming his children with wisdom, intellect or grace. There is no visible sign that we will have better public schools for those in their tender years, new hospitals for the sick or venues of culture detached from the lures of the sluts of Wowowee. Our respect for him is continuously eroding.
Branding our father in this city as a thief and a cheat everyday over the radio by his very own sons has become so natural that almost everyone has started to believe in it. Instead of being an example to his children, he has become an island of his own, without the slightest concern over what may happen to all of us. By and large, his children have declared him a PERSONA NON GRATA.
One day, we will dispel from our memories a father of our city who never showed any gift of kindness. In contrast, we will always treasure the fatherhood of the late Justiniano R. Borja who never faltered in caring for all of us during his stint in office.
In the national scene, because we feel being treated like dogs, we might one day, instead of barking in the streets, bite our own bitch and relegate her to oblivion.
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