Today marks my anniversary here in WordPress, though I’m not posting because of that. I really wanted to pay tribute to my father, whose birthday it was yesterday. I was thinking of making my #FeatureFriday about him, but there was no time as I went to a somewhat going-away party. Then yesterday came, I wanted to post something then, except I could not exactly get the WiFi to work properly, not that it’s working that well now. I did light candles and prayed for him. So now, here I am. I just can’t not post this. He was the first man I ever loved.
In some sort of way, I was Daddy’s Girl. Sort of. My mother had problems with all three pregnancies, even lost my older brother who was the actual second child. I didn’t ask, but I assume now that they stopped after having me due to health issues. Having no boy in the family, I somehow became the surrogate son. That would explain my boyish nature. Incidentally, I think he was the one who was most afraid I was growing up with a boy’s sexual orientation.
He was very wrong. He did not live long enough to find out, though. I never had a chance to introduce him to any guy, mainly because I never had any prior to meeting my future husband.
Honestly, I did dream of the day that he would walk me down the aisle. I would imagine how he would’ve felt. I imagined how I would’ve. Would he have tears in his eyes? Would I have? I didn’t exactly walk down the aisle at my civil wedding, but foretelling the future isn’t my strong suit, right?
So what I have for him are these these two songs, my imagined scenarios, from the POV of a father and of his daughter. They’re not exact–I never rode a pony and, at sixteen, I was looking more like him than my mother–but they are the perfect songs still.
The first is a 90s song from Bob Carlisle, probably came out in 1999, because I remember obliging to a song rendition request of it before Y2K. The second, a local 80s song, if I’m correct, from Filipino popular singer-songwriter Jose Mari Chan and (now) respected film/stage actress and sometimes singer Cherie Gil.
Sing Me A Song Again, Daddy (NOT sure if it’s really “a song” as I always thought she said “your song”)
I’ll see you again, Dade. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!