I remember being carried in piggy back up until I was 11! Uh Huh. I was quite small for my age but still a pre-teener for crying out loud! While the rest of the girls my age, dream of holding hands with their volatile crushes, I was dying to lifted and carried in piggyback by Dee. He had always complained about me being a big girl already (which is half truth, you know) but I bet he adores all the pleading and the begging and the hugs and kisses that he asks in return. FYI, no matter how much he naggingle complained, he never declined!
I remember loving to shopw with him because unlike ma, he doesn't give a limit to our shopping budget. One "please" here and a kiss there can buy me anything I want and need.
I remember loving to watch him cook and being so excited to get my share (and half my sibling's and my mom's share) of the good food that never failed my tastebuds. I remember begging him to cook for me during field trips and campings. I remember being so proud of my "fine-dining-tasting" baon and my envious classmates hating me for the "hmmm's" and the "yummy's" and all the sound effects/ remarks I exclaim while indulging in Dee's dishes.
I remember our daddy-daughter talks when he drives me to school. Usually, he does most of the talking. I do the listening. I love listening to his adventures. How he mastered the streets of Tokyo. How he travelled to different places all over the world. Lessons he learned. People he admired. How he got his first kiss (got it when he was in 2nd grade!)
Our favorite topic though, is the plots guys do to lure girls into falling for them. (boo! I obviously didn't learn from these) He knows a lot for the simple fact that he was a self confessed playboy up until he met my mom *aww sweet*
There's quite a lot of good memories to remember. But I will never forget the way he dropped on his knees and cried when he saw tears falling down my eyes.
My whole life, I've only seen Dee cried twice. Once when grandpa died, and the last one when I cried.He was fuming with anger then. Disappointed with the way his favorite (and only) daughter behaved. Out of anger, he shouted at me. Leaving the two of us shocked. I cried. And all of a sudden the fierceness in him disappeared. The guy I thought of the strongest, whimpered like a kid beside me. My tears wached away all the traces of anger he had. He sat beside me. Hugged me. And cried. There and there I know how great his love for me was. It was more than any man could ever give me. More than the love I could ever give him back.
They say fathers serve as our ideal men. That when searching for true love, we're actually searching for carbon copies of our fathers. I say no man will ever measure up to the impact that Dee had on me. No one could tell me that he'd love me more than anyone did and not lie. My Dee is, and will always be, my first great love (second to GOD of course!)
He lovingly calls me "princess" and treats me as such. He looks up to me and expects a lot from me. But to fulfill his dreams for me is the least that I could do for all the love he has given me. And though I may never promise that I will never fail him, I can promise him and be certain that I will never stop loving him.
I have always seen him as a perfect father. Wise and Strong. Disciplined and Firm. Now that I'm growing up though, sometimes I find it hard to accept the imperfections that I discover in him. It's heartbreaking to see his youth diminish. But all these weaknesses and imperfections that are slowly surfacing, won't diminish the great love that I have solely for him. For my dad. For my DEE.
And no matter how much I deny I am, and will always be, a DADDY'S GIRL.