Mahal kong Vey,
Bakit hindi sumusulat, anak? Parang nakakalimot ka na. Balitaan mo ako sa susunod na koreo ni Moms mo, ha? Halimbawa, tungkol sa kadalasan ninyong ginagawa araw-araw: paglalaro, pagtulong sa gawaing bahay, pamamasyal, at iba pa. Oo nga pala, hindi ka nagbalita tungkol sa nakita’t nangyari nuon sa Taal at Matabungkay. Sana makapagbalita ka paminsan-minsan, kahit anong bagay.
Tinanggap ko ang mga litrato ninyo. Matangkad ka na pala, at maganda. Kaya lang parang mahaba sa harap ang iyong buhok. Kung gusto ang mahaba, ipatali mo (kagaya nang ginagawa ni Ate nuon - omit reading this to her). At magpabili ka ng damit na gusto mo. Ikaw ang pumili. Sa retrato, mukha kang silaw sa liwanag.
Tumulong ka sa bahay. Mag-aral ka, anak. Alam ko magaling din ang ulo mo.
Pahalik sa ‘yo at sa Moms.
Daddy
(Written when Vey was around 4 years old, or 1971.)
October 1st, 2007 at 7:11 am
Vey,
I’m glad, now that Faye has just given birth and is expectedly unable for a while to resume her regular posting here, that you’ve picked up the baton.
The letter you posted from Den is quite familiar as I was the one who read it to you, and quite typical of the letters he wrote even then to Bob, you, and Bryn. I mean he wrote as if all of you were older than your actual age.
Memories of those days sometimes make me feel as if Den were just abroad–a thought I like to cherish if only to soften the pang of loneliness. However, there are no letters, no email, no nothing. Isn’t there a hotline to Heaven? If there were, perhaps the lines would be perpetually clogged with last-minute bilins and the like.
October 4th, 2007 at 1:32 am
Dear Mai,
Am sure there is (a hotline, that is), that’s why sleep comes so hard these days, as we lie in bed, wide awake with memories of Dear Ol’ Dad. We are infused with his spirit, more than we know or care to admit. In my parenting ways, in how I teach, this is how Dad would do it.