AS a kid, I’ve always been close to my tatay. Our bond mostly consists of going to places to eat and having me play Tom Clancy’s Rainbow Six Siege on his iPad, even if my mother told him not to. 

Growing up as a girly girl, I was introduced to video games that included shooting. The gameplay follows a storyline where a terrorist group comes to terrorize a European embassy and has the ambassador held hostage.

The primary goal of the game is to rescue the ambassador and lead him to safety in order to win; however, as the game progresses, another twist on the gameplay awaits, now showing a news reporter being held hostage by the group’s leader.  

I quickly pointed out to my father and said, “That’s you.” 

Tatay took a look and said, “Yes, that’s me. Are you going to save me?” 

I nodded and shifted my focus to the game by aiming my virtual gun towards the head of the target. Once I successfully shot the target on the head, I was able to rescue the news reporter. The end credit later follows as I was taken to the main menu of the game. 

By the time I was able to finish the game, Tatay pulled his wallet from his pocket and handed me money to buy us some snacks. He would ask me to buy him his usual, and if he hands me extra, he might as well add a soda. 

As a kid, I would come to conclude that he is a good father because I get along with him very well. When you’re a kid, you don’t usually have much in your head or a lot of feelings to deal with, and with that, my focus was only on the things that make me happy, and my tatay makes me happy.  

Entering my teenage years, I found myself in a pit of unexplained emotions. You know what they say about puberty, a raging hormone comes to turn a sweet little girl into a fiery dragon. But looking into a deep dive of my teenage self, I was more than a teenage girl going through a phase; I was aggressive. 

Oftentimes, I’d find myself fighting my parents over a small argument that can be fixed through a little talking. But instead of staying composed and settling it through a clear talk, I would find myself yelling at them, specifically towards my mother.  

After cooling down, Tatay would take me out and treat me with some food, trying to make me understand what I did was wrong and how I should apologize to Nanay for saying such hurtful things. 

Whenever he tries to explain it, he becomes patient with me. Knowing him, he’s not that patient when it comes to others, but whenever he does, he is gentle to me. 

A burger, a fries, and a soda later, Tatay would then drive home after running some errands outside. When I finally felt ready to say sorry, I would come up to them in a more gentle approach. Talking about things made it easy, and I was able to contain myself, taking my nanay’s words as a form of concern rather than an attack.

I may have some improvements myself, but just like every other daughter, I’m not perfect. I made a lot of unruly decisions as a teenager, but nothing compares to the decision when I ended up breaking my father’s heart after receiving a call from my principal, stating how low my final grade is. 

Tatay was furious. He was angry in a way that he almost came up with a decision to stop me from studying. Being as his daughter who inherited his anger issues, instead of owning up to my mistakes and lowering my pride, I yelled and blamed him, making me break my father’s heart even more. 

I haven’t spoken to my dad for days, and not being able to speak to him during the pandemic was harder because we were both forced to stay close to each other despite the awkwardness we felt. During that time, the only person I can only talk to was my nanay, so I tried to be extra nice to her.

Until she decided to bring up the topic of what had happened and told me how she just ended up convincing my dad not to push through his decision. According to her, Tatay had already stopped believing that I’d do well in my adulthood, and it was so bad that he reached the question of whether or not there’s a point for me to continue my studies. 

Nanay began to explain how much I broke his heart, on how he still loves me despite my setbacks. I know Nanay wants me to agree with her on this, but during that time, I don’t really see the point of believing so I just nod and tell her what she wants to hear. 

I was scared to apologize to my father during that time, and one of the things that held me back was that I didn’t know how to fully express myself in a vulnerable state. Instead of apologizing, I shifted my focus to how I’ll be able to pull my grades up, and thankfully, I passed. 

For a few years, my mind was conditioned that Tatay would only see me if I performed well at school. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t feel distant from Tatay during that time, but most of the time, I would find myself working for a long and extensive period of time just so I would be the best at everything I do. 

Excelling in college made my parents happy for me, but instead of feeling the same for myself,  I ended up loathing everything I had because it felt like I had to keep on performing in order me to be loved.  

I’d work myself from Monday to Sunday until I found myself in an intense burnout session where writing a sentence on paper is unbearable, and so is talking to people. 

One of the few people to notice is my father, and the very first thing that I expect him to do is to get mad at me for not being able to complete my tasks. I sat down with him and expected him to yell at me, but instead of doing that, he listened to what I had to say, and then he talked. 

For the first time in a while, I have come to understand that I was lucky to have a father like him. I spent most of the years being distant from him as I felt that I needed to perform for him to see and understand me, whereas he had already been doing it ever since the day I was born.

I was so focused on being distant that I disregarded my father’s hard teachings and sacrifice. Nanay was right when she said something about Tatay loving us unconditionally. I didn’t believe it when I was younger, but the moment I grew older and began settling into my adult life, I came to realize that Tatay has done a lot for me and bunso. 

Throughout my late teenage years, I would often think that the reason why Tatay is working is because he has a responsibility to fulfill. In my head, making a family has always been a choice, but sticking to them as they grew, while witnessing the hardships of it, takes a lot more than just a sense of responsibility.  

Tatay had always preached about unconditional love, and he has always pushed through that ever since. Tatay loves us that much that he is willing to sacrifice himself to be sick by working 13 to 15 hours a day to provide food for the family. 

He loves us that much that he would still be patient with us despite the amount of disappointment that we have brought upon him. 

He loves me that much that even if  I broke his heart as a kid, he would still bring me out to fast food stalls and treat me with junk food just so he could gently talk to me and make me understand where I went wrong. 

Tatay is not perfect, but even if I come to disappoint him many times, he never leaves and walks away from me, even if he begins to believe that I have no chance of doing well as an adult. 

Without my tatay in my life, I would probably still be fine and be a functional member of society, but then there would be a huge chunk of quality that I’ll be missing from what I am and how I turned out right now. Tatay played a huge role in my life, and it’s more than just bonding through a video game that puts a smile on our faces. 

Tatay never left me during the darkest time of my life, even if he saw the ugliness within me growing up. There’s no such thing as a perfect father, but you just know that you’re lucky if you have someone who stays even if things turn dark.