last may 25, while at my sister’s house in montalban, rizal, i was surprised when my father offered me ube-flavored bread.

eee… i hate ube. dad, bata pa lang ako ayaw ko na nyan, ah!

talaga? bakit?

yes… tsk! are you my father? i joked.

he just smiled and we fell silent.

and then, like a vacuum cleaner, loneliness swallowed what could have been our father and daughter moment in ages. leaving behind just a split-second of almost negligible pain in the chest. but it was there – so tiny, it hurt.

it made me think back on the days when i was daddy’s little girl, stepping playfully on his toes while he walks. and wonder when, where and why i ever stopped being so.

i watched my father ate the ube-flavored bread, while maybe pondering on what he knows about me. and then his recollection of my younger days lead to that of when i was four years old and crying over a piece of lanzones – as it always does, i guess.

and he wonders when, where and why his now 24-year-old daughter started to hate ube.

these are just my thoughts, but if they were true, don’t worry tatay, love pa din naman kita! happy father’s day.


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