It is our dear dad's day on Sunday and I'll just probably pop my Papa a message (response not required but it will be highly appreciated).
I didn't grow up with my dad. When Mama went abroad to work, my siblings and I were left in the care of our aunts and grandparents. I don't know exactly what happened why such a set-up came about, all I know is that I would rush to my aunt's house across the street if I have a feeling that Papa will arrive with some goodies for us... I was almost always lucky about my gut feeling. When I turned 9, there's no more bags of goodies and no more Papa to wait. I saw him again during my sister's college graduation. After 10 long years, I was able to hug him again. I remember whenever I get sick he would buy me a burger as my medicine, he would cook simple but delicious meals, tell funny stories and play with us until we get tired and fall asleep. Those were the days. I don't have ill feelings about his absence when we were growing up, I just miss and love him more than caring about what happened in the past.
Lance, like me when I was a child, would anxiously run towards the door while calling his Daddy... he isn't lucky as I was. Mama never witnessed our longing for Papa but nevertheless, I know she was hurting. Now that I am seeing my son acting the way I did when I was a kid is something that breaks my heart again and again. So now I am thinking (asking): Is it better to have a dead father than knowing he is alive but you will never get to see him?