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.

Lord, Teach Me to be A Dad

I read somewhere that "being a dad takes guts, patience and a strong will, but being a father only requires you to be male..." I came out with the feeling that that is more sarcastic than it is factual... Well, I was wrong...

With Fathers' Day drawing nigh (it will actually be there tomorrow, Sunday, June 16, 2013), a day which is rarely celebrated with pomp and enthusiasm like Women's or Mothers' Day because (blame my thinks) people have some "secret beef" against men (read "The Boy Child Dilemma"), I am worried that my dad (both in Heaven and on earth) will not feel appreciated and pampered with words and gifts like He/he deserves.

I am worried that we are going to take the men in our lives for granted - just as it is the norm. I am worried that men all over the world will end up wishing that this day was blotted from the calender altogether in order to spare them the ridiculous agony it exposes them to. I am also worried that I should be worried about such thinks.

But wait, maybe I can do something about it. Maybe I can start preparing myself to be a GREAT dad so that I will not face humiliation from my future wife and daughters... (I'm dreaming baby! hehe... :)). Maybe I should start getting worried about who I am and not necessarily about what other men are. Maybe that will change my world... And that is why I am praying the prayer above...

So this is what I have decided: that I will celebrate my two dads this coming Sunday, celebrate other great men in my life that have helped to shape the person that I am; and apart from that, learn a few things from them about, er, fatherhood?, no, about "dadhood". :)

While in the learning process, I want to see and know what dads are made up of because I want to make a GREAT dad someday... So, if they are a mixture of clay and gold, I want that. If they are stupid, I wanna be stupid. Yeah, if it takes stupidity in order to make a dad, I want that. If they are humble, I wanna be humble. If they collect stones and chase grasshoppers, boy! I wanna be that. If GREAT dads carry the blunt of their decisions without complaining, I want to learn to do that. If they provide for their families and live to love each member of their families unconditionally, Lord teach me that. I wanna be great - someone's GREAT DAD.

My moments of wanting to be just a father to my (future) children and a mere name to my (future) wife are gone. I want better Fathers' Days in the future - where I'll always look forward to celebrating and not just having one. (Boy! I am over-dreaming, right? ... Well, never mind... my dreams conquer my world - they make it worthwhile.)

I wanna deal with my arrogance, my stubbornness, my "too much knowledge", my "being a man"... I wanna step out of my comfort zone into the realms of the unknown where my dad in Heaven is - where He's gonna hold my hand and teach me how to be a dad...

Hold a man's hand this weekend, look him into the eye, tell him how much he means to you, then softly tell him, "Happy Fathers Day...!"

ALL men need that. Yes, all men deserve it...

Side note: Read this article to find out just a lil' bit of what I'm talking about. 


Bonface Morris.   

Fathers’ Day Special

To my old chap, my dad, to all dads... and to God as the best father I’ve ever had...

Two songs I do dedicate to you:

1. Joel Engle’s ‘The Father I Never Had’ – to all of us who have never seen or had an experience with our mortal dads and;
2. Phillips, Craig and Dean’s ‘I Want to be Just Like You’ – to all of us who seek to emulate God as our eternal Father...

Dude! There are times I wonder what kind of father I will be. I always wonder like that because I realize that I’m growing old really fast. Just the other day I was 18. OK, let me start like this: just the other day, I was a baby. A baby. I should not imagine me being a baby. Dude! I should not. My dad used to call me with another name I may never tell you so soon. But I remember it anyway. I also remember how he used to call it out. I grew up riding horses (take that for being made old before your time). Sadly (or gladly also) I remember how he used to spank me to instil discipline in this messed up boy. And speaking of being messed up, boy I was. I was a real mess. From age 7 I already had known how to jump out of windows to escape punishment at school. I was a serial thief, a liar, a stone-thrower – all at the age of 7 – 10.

How would you feel if your only son is as messy as I was at an early age? It would only tell you that he will be the worst son a father can ever have. It is to indicate that you are a failing father. So to make his mark on my life, the old chap really used to work on my body. And I deserved it, I guess. I deserved it because being a lad and you don’t sleep at home for 2 days, you make technical appearances only to steal and potea again, you have several cases people have reported of you here and there was just bad. Weird. I was this lad who would steal and go out to gamble (that should have been when I was 12), watch a few movies, buy stuff... and just disappear from home. Breathe. Breathe again. Good.
Let me paint for you the picture of how it really is (and really was) having my dad around... Here we go...
Dude! My early life was spent running away from my dad. I didn’t like meeting him one-on-one. Nope. I think I really never liked him that much then as compared to my soft-spoken mum. The guy was a tyrant. A real one for sure. If he spotted me in the night after my escapades, I would face the music sung by his special mshipi that was entirely customized for my dorsal to anterior parts. I would cry. But in vain. Not even my mom would sooth the wrath of that old guy... And the drama went on and on, and on...

So my growing up distancing myself from him somehow worried him. I could see it in his eyes when I was in high school (and then I had grown into an innocent wreck... into a guy who talked less and operated under the MYOB code.) It scared him somehow. I think he feared that he was losing me. He feared that he may never reach me anymore. I was too demanding and a lil bit overlaid. Being the only son somehow spoils you... But he never allowed me to get spoilt. Thank you dad, because if you had, I would really be spoilt today. Thank you because in my adolescent days you allowed me to ‘mind my own business’ but under control. You allowed me to do my thing but not beyond boundaries. You talked to me somehow. And I answered back because of the ka-feeling of growing up. You knew that that is how boys behave when they want to informally tell you that their voices have changed from soprano-ish to tenor-bass-ish. You knew that I no longer wished to be told everything to be done. You allowed me to make decisions on my own, knowing that they will shape where I went. I am thankful that to today you allow me that freedom...

To make you understand a few things, my dad hana bro. Na mimi pia sina bro. I am like his bro kind-of. We are brothers kind-of. This dude is the tightest dude I’ve ever met. I am always wondering if I will ever be like my dad. He has shown me courage in many ways. He has shown me that you don’t beat up a lady (or a woman in any case) to make her see sense in what you are saying. He has taught me that you don’t prove points by yelling at people. The more the old chap has grown old, the calmer he has become. Of course there were days he used to make lots of noise. And I think it was rightfully so. He then had 5 naughty daughters and one filthy son – if it were you, what would you do, huh? I guess you would prove points by showing them you (and not them) are the man of the house. You would show them in words and in action. Man!

And about him and my mother, and for as long as I’ve known him, he has never laid a hand on her in the name of beating her. He has never insulted her. He has allowed her to sit him down and straighten a few things (because that always happens with marriage I suppose) but he has not allowed himself f to be controlled by his anger. When angry at her, as I would see, he would match out and chill off; only to return later and ask for food and after that – it’s bed time baby! BTW, I was telling one of my friends that until the day I was living with them a few years ago, he still called her ‘darling’ to our hearing – not in privacy but to the openness of our ears! Dude! Breathe again...

My dad has taught me that women should be loved (I know he loves my mom) and that the only way to be right sometimes is by allowing yourself to become wrong. He has allowed himself to be vulnerable (I think I took part of that to myself) by talking about his early days when he was my age – of how he acquired a Muslim name and it stuck, and of how and when he got married to my mom – how poor but favoured he was to marry a woman from... I won’t say that... hehe!). We talk a lot. He is not the kind of, ‘you are still a kid and have so much to learn’, but one of, ‘Yeah you are a kid, but you must learn how to grow up until you are my age’. He is over sixty you know... 

I love my dad. Yeah I do. People say we look alike... OK, that’s a story for another day... He is a courageous man. Even to today, when all of us are out here making life happen, he still is not the lazy fellow who waits to be fed – he takes care of his family still...

Concluding my chit chat, there is a movie I admire (one addressed by DJ Johni Celeb in his post ‘Man – An Endangered Species’) – Courageous. It is a movie I would like every man to watch. It is a good movie. I wonder if we, the men of today, shall rise up and become courageous for our God, our girlfriends, our fiancées, for our wives, for our children. I wonder if we will love them as Christ loves the Church. I wonder if men of this generation will be courageous at all. I wonder if this Fathers’ Day will remind us more of the great Father we have – our God. Such a Father who gave His only Son for us thus showing us the deepest love ever known. I only wonder. But I also hope that men will take their positions and rule, and guide, and show the way that this generation should go... I hope that God will be the very picture of a father we wanna be... Only Him is the best picture...

Morris.