<filgifts.com> Fresh from Pinas

PRESENT
June 2001

I never thought I would get a present from her. Never did I receive a gift from her the day she married her boyfriend of 7 months, and I never expected a gift, not even on my birthday, and certainly not on Father's Day. Not this year, nor the year before that, or even five years ago.

Five years ago…. It's been five years since we last talked, five years since I last heard my daughter's voice pleading to me to attend her wedding, begging me to support her and be there for her on the most important day of her life.

But I just couldn't. I didn't like the thought of somebody taking her away from me, much less by a guy she barely knew. I couldn't even look at them together, because the fear that she will be gone too soon crept into my being, and that was something I can't bear.

I did not attend her wedding. Everybody else -- her mom, her friends and other relatives -- were present when she changed her name, when she made her vows to the man whom I felt stabbed me to death by taking away my only baby girl. The whole town was there. Not me. I stayed the whole day at home watching basketball, as if nothing extraordinary was happening in my life. Pretending to be strong, pretending that I was not affected, even if my chest felt like bursting because of all the pain and loneliness I was feeling.

I did a lot of pretending. After the wedding, I tried to pretend that she did not exist. I tried to show the world that I did not care anymore. I tried to live thinking I never had a daughter… but I failed.

Everyday I thought of her. Everyday I thought about what she was eating for breakfast until the time she went home. Everyday I worried about her, if her husband was taking care of her, if he pampered her the way I did when she was my little girl. I loved her so much…my baby girl, my unica hija. I wanted to let her know that despite what happened, that even if I felt betrayed when she pushed through with her wedding without my blessing, I still loved her like anything. But of course I couldn't tell her that.

It was my pride that ruled over everything. It was my pride that kept me from calling her up from Manila, while she was thousands of miles away, in the other side of the world. My pride kept me from even asking my wife about her. My beloved wife, who was always in touch with her in San Francisco, never mentioned her name to me, knowing that I pretended she did not exist.

And suddenly, this gift. I was reading the papers on the breakfast table on that Father's Day morning, when this boy from a local courier handed me a package. I froze when I read who it was from… and when I got in the house, my wife sat down beside me, before I went to see what's inside. But I was hesitant.

"Should I open it?" I asked.
"Why not?" she replied.
"It's from her…"
"So?"

It was a small leather picture frame. My heart beat wildly as I read the gift card inside the box that held it.

"This should hold our picture when I visit next month."

I just stared at it. I couldn't bring myself to look at my wife, who was already crying. I knew that I will also break down, because even if she did not say words like "I love you, Daddy," or even "I'm sorry", it was more than enough to make me feel that we are starting to heal. I know in my heart that I have forgiven her a long time ago, but I just couldn't admit that because of the pride I had in my heart.

One present was all it took to begin mending the broken bond, although I know it was not the gift that did the healing, it was the effort she had to take to do that. Now that she's tried reaching out to me, it's my turn to ask for her forgiveness. My turn to swallow my pride. My turn to acknowledge that I am HER father, and that I do love her so much. With that gift, I knew it was a start - I'll have my daughter back.

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