Letter to My Dad

Dear dad,

I was supposed to post this eight days ago but my love for this nation, as you have always taught me, overwhelmed me. I chose to post it today. Please read on...

I have been wanting to write this for a long time - for a really long time. And I am sure you know that I am not pretending. You know that I am not pretending because you have known me all along. You know that when I tell you I have been wanting to write this, it is the truth. You know that it is the truth. The plain truth.
I have been wanting to do this, but time and circumstances have been scolding me out. But now I have gathered time and energy and guts… and I choose to write to you – to a man who has gone through thick and thin, who seems not so great to many but is still one of the greatest men I've ever known. I choose to write to this man – to you - because I want and I need to. I don’t wanna wait for some other day for me to pour out my heart, no. I am doing it right now, I am doing it today.

Dad, this is for you. I don't care if you'll read it or not, but I'm writing it for you. Yes, just for you. And yes, I am still that small, tiny baby of yours, but now just saying things I have wanted to say for a while… right here.

Dad, it has been a while since we experienced life together. It has surely been a while. I have grown older, and you too have aged on. I have grown more independent, and you have become fonder of my mom – you had missed her, right? All those years with you staying out here where I now am, I know you missed her…

I still remember those moments when we used to live together – moments when you used to call me Senior… Do you remember them? I remember them with some sort of astute vigor. They can’t just pale away. No, not ever. I remember not being so good, because I wasn't. I was intolerable. I was a prude. I was rigorous and spoilt (not by you but into my own ways), I was meticulous but messy. Remember?
I still remember how much life challenged us together. You talk about it sometimes. Over the phone. When I visit. Many times. You talk about it many times. I can’t forget where we have come from – you and I. I can’t. I remember how we forged ourselves around life and the Lord our God still made us through. I remember our wanting to doubt His presence because of the conniving amplitude of our grievous circumstances. I remember I told you right in the middle of such moments that I was gonna grow up to become great. You believed it. A little. The problem was that I believed it too much – because that is who I am. I am not yet that great, but I am heading there. You know I will be great one day. You know it, dad.

Now dad, let me go back a few steps - a few years back – when I used to kick at you as a thief. I guess I was only 8, or was it 10? Remember when I used to steal your money? And run away for a couple of days? I worried you. I really did. You beat me up. You wanted me to change. You worked on me really tight.  (Yeah, I was and I still am your only son, but man, you did work on my butts, lol.) Did you ever imagine that I was gonna write you letters like this one? Even once? Okay dad, here I am, all changed but still weird as ever – because as you know it, this is who I am…

Then came the days in my High School when life was really tough. (Only you and mom - and probably Jay - understand it when I say it was tough.) It was tough. But I thank God that they are these moments that brought me closer to Him. They are these moments that begun creating character out of me. They are these moments that have forged the person that I am today. And you know it too. Those High School days made Morris what he is today: a boy who believes too much, never gives up and... lemme leave it at that...

Dad, I have not grown into a man yet - not really. I am still undergoing change. I am still some work in progress. I am some sort of a messed up royal boy (you know I belong to Heaven too.) I have grown up to know a few things about human beings - their volatile nature, their pettiness, their lack of sense in direction, their sarcasm, their greed, their rage... I have had friends, broken out, build trust, broken some and life is still moving on. Yeah, I always move on. I refuse to be stuck in my past. I have made mistakes, I have faced betrayal, I have been lied to, I have had fake and real friends, I have acquired Wisdom, I have accumulated ideas, and my ambitious nature is still flaming on… I have learnt a lot from life already…

Dad, I work (yeah, I am a little lazy but I work). I take care of myself (thanks to God), I serve God, I go to school (yeah, but I never tell you about my school grades though, lol – because I think I have grown up to be accountable only to myself about what I do in school – and dad, you should not however ask those guys in school about my bad manners because man, I am bad news... :-))

Okay dad, school aside, let’s move on… (About school, this will need a face-to-face chat...)

There is another story I need to tell you though – a story about my love life. Have I ever told you that I once met a girl, fell in love, and felt like the moon was dripping honey into my world? Hah, okay allow me to summarize it for you right here…

A few years ago, you shared with me about your story and mom, remember? Yeah, I was keen, listening. (When it comes to this stuff, always be sure that we are listening… :-)) So you shared with me and I was intrigued. After a while, I met this lady. She was great. Yeah she was. She loved the Lord. Oh well, she did. And we fell in love. Oh yes, we did. We truly fell in love. Dad, it was real. It was so real. So real. (Yeah, something close to you and mom.) And we puddled in the oceans of this thing called love for a while. We did. We puddled for a while. For a good while. But later, dad, the sad (or good) thing is that things fell apart. Well, I messed it up. I take the blame as a man. (You taught me this.) No blame games. I moved on.
I am bringing back this story to show you that I tried. I really tried. I think I was a good boyfriend. Well, I later realized that I went in too early – I needed to get a bit older to know a few things about loving someone... I am now single. Single and comfortable. I know a few ladies. I make friends. So don’t be worried about that – bout your only son getting married. I will get married. Some day. (Lol.) I know you are okay with that. I know it because you always encourage me to take my time. Yes old dude, you understand these things…

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Yes dad, you are a great man. I am writing this letter to tell you that you are a great man. I am celebrating you today. We are celebrating you right now. You may not have been angelically perfect, but you have been good to us. You have been a great dad. I will say that your greatness is not determined by how much people think of you but by what me and my sisters know of you as our dad, and what our mom thinks and knows about you. We have laughed together. We have celebrated together. We have cried and wept together. You have never given up on us. Never. You have given us chances to make our own decisions. We make mistakes, but we learn from them and move on. You have loved our mom. You have not been unfaithful as far as we know. You have not been an addict of any sort. You have loved us. You have never ever beaten our mom. (This means a lot to us.) You have not even shouted at her. You have shouted at us, but not at her. We feel and know that you love and respect her. You have given her the freedom as a woman to do whatever she pleases for the well-being of our family. We have grown to love both of you equally. You have never discriminated among my siblings by favoring one at the expense of others. You have treated us equally. (This also means a lot to us.) We have nicknamed you and you have always smiled about it… oh my, which other family calls their dad by his nickname – a weird nickname - and he still goes along with it? Very few. Now do you get what I am talking about? You are a great man. We thank the Lord for you.

Now dad, because you old people don’t love reading long letters, I am going to cut it short by sharing with you a few lessons I learnt from you. I am thankful for the following;

1.     You taught me to grow into a man - into a man whose manhood is not determined by how much he earns or succeeds or by his level of education or by how many women he chases and/or sleeps with, but by how well he treats those around him. At least I laugh just as much as you do and I make just as many friends. As you always said, “Invest in people, the returns will be exorbitant.” I am trying to follow this rule. I am trying.

2.     You taught me to take responsibility. You taught me that in order to be a man worthy my salt, I’ll need to learn to take charge, be available and get committed to something that does not only benefit me, but others too. Yeah, I am also trying out on this one. I am trying to lead. I try to say “I’m sorry”. I try not to shift blames to innocent people. I am not perfect, but I DO try to be responsible.

3.     You taught me to hold my ground and believe in myself. Yes, I think this is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Believing in myself has made me to stand strong in my salvation even when all young people my age think that it is crazy to do so. I don’t move with crowds, I seek to stand out. I am my own logo. I am my own command. Dad, some people hate me for this but I think I am cool with it. It has also made me noisy and taught me to stand for my rights and for the rights of others...

There are many things I would want to add into this letter but I can do so some other time… And dad, please tell mom that I will be writing a piece for her soon. Tell her that her-boy-grown-blogger-cum-scientist will be writing something specifically for her. You two mean the whole world to me. I love you both… May the Lord increase and satisfy both of you with blessings and long life.

Your dear son,

Morris.

Note: To all that have never had a father like mine, I dedicate this song by Joel Engle: The Father I Never Had to you all. |God will always be the available Father you never had. May you find comfort in His arms.