Maturity was never your issue, only mine. I’ve always thought of myself as immature but you haven’t. I will always reason out my immaturity every time we argue but you didn’t.
You have this picture of me: a woman who’s bold, rational, and strong even though I would often question it. You would always point out that you liked my maturity but I would often doubt it.
How you saw me made a difference. How you described me changed my perspective. You saw me as strong and now I owned it.
However you did not only see me as bold but also fragile.
When life was rough for me, when difficulties seemed to wear me down, and when I thought I want to give up, you showed me I could be strong by leaning on you.
I appreciated those moments that you would not treat me as a lady but as a little girl, your baby girl. Those moments were the ones that I hold on to until now.
You were so sweet, caring, and loving. I couldn’t have asked for more than your generosity, love, hugs, and also kisses. You knew that whenever I’m weary, one “baby moment” would calm me down. You would always bring that frown upside down. When I’m talking to you, I’m like Little Miss Sunshine.
But not all glows last. You knew I was fragile and you left me broken. Yes, I cried for weeks but I never regretted that I met you. In fact, I’m still clinging on to those sweet treasures. I missed those times. I surely missed those times. But most importantly, I missed my daddy.
Now, as I face life as a mature woman, I’m still holding on to that “baby” inside me. Hence, I can claim that I can face all of life’s difficulties heads on. I owe most of it to you, dad.