you can no longer be my father.
as a child, i remembered asking mama why in the world you were not with us. she said you were in saudi, working hard so that i can buy all the toys that i want. i was too young to be questioning answers at that time.
and so i was fed lies upon lies, until the lies were more familiar than the truth.
by now, i can concoct a story to explain your absence, a story which in no way will diminish your stature as an officer and a gentleman. mama grew us up to be respectful of a father that we never had.
i knew she loved you until her very last breath. i wish i had known you better, to understand why in the world can such an intelligent and independent woman like mama hold on to a love that was destined to fail.
but we are too manly to dwell on such emotional issues. and so we stayed with small talks, like two strangers getting a feel of who the other person really is.
i no longer need a father, of that i’m sure. after twenty years of living without one, i no longer seek explanations. you were never a part of who i am today anyway. or at least i believe to.
no one can deny the fact that it is your blood that runs through my veins. we look so much alike; the high forehead, unruly hair, brown sleepy eyes, our voices, our mannerisms.
now, i understand the faraway look in mama’s eyes whenever i caught her fleeting glances.
you can no longer be a father to me though. it is too late to start what you ended up a long long time ago.
call me sev, i was never your junior.