It was my daughter Sunshine’s eight birthday on Sept. 3rd. This was a relatively subdued event compared to last year when she celebrated the age of seven which has special significance here in the Philippines.
While I’m not Sunshine’s biological father, she has accepted me as her daddy. Recently, I heard her asking her mother a painful question. “Mommy, are all Pinoys fathers, and all foreigners daddy’s?” It was an insightful observation from a child to the reality of Philippine life.
Many Pinoy men might think it’s a fun game to make girls pregnant then move on to their next victim. Although not usually given to judging others, I do find that behavior reprehensible.
On this birthday, Sunshine woke smothered in kisses and cuddles from Vhie and me, while her mother sang birthday songs in Visaya as Sunshine first giggled, then roared with delight realizing it was her special day.
This year’s birthday party was held at her school, the excellent Life Giver Christian Academy. Word had got out the Jollibee team would be there together with the famous mascot. This news created an excited sense of anticipation throughout the school. The mood became enhanced when the Jollibee team arrived and began to lay out the food and prepare party games. But where was the Jollibee mascot, the excited children wondered? He arrived after food had been served. Judging by the reception, he could have been a major rock star. Screams and hollers permeated the atmosphere in the halls of this usually-restrained school. Sunshine was giddy with excitement, and, with an energy that contradicted her petite size, she successfully pushed her way through the screaming crowd of delighted children and hugged part of the mascot’s huge frame. She was the personification of joy.
Later that evening, it was time for her to open the special present we got for her. There would be no surprise since she knew exactly what it was, but she still pretended not to know. The uncovering of the present took on theatrical dimensions and lasted several minutes. Sunshine giggled while loudly wondering what in heavens name might be in the box? When she finally unwrapped her present and saw the sapatos inside, she roared with delight, then rolled around on the floor while proclaiming her joy.
Before reluctantly going to bed, she read us cards given to her by classmates. One had a drawing of a big birthday cake and a girl, presumably Sunshine. The writing content had Vhie and me in hysterics laughing. It read “Sunshine, I think you are my best friend, and I forgive the bad things you did to me, and I prayed for you to be safe. From Gheya, your BBF.” It’s impossible not to delight in those innocent words, a charming letter from one child to another, devoid of calculation, and sprinkled with affection.
Finally, an exhausted Sunshine fell into a deep sleep with a contented smile on her lovely face. Before drifting off, she kissed me and thanked me for her day. But it was she who had gifted priceless memories to me.
I worked that night from midnight until dawn, revising a chapter from my upcoming book. Exhausted, I crawled into bed. I’d barely closed my eyes when I was shaken awake. Sunshine’s beaming face blurred into vision. “Do you want us to make slime Daddy?” All daddy wanted to do was go back into a deep sleep for several hours. “Daddy!” It was impossible to refuse the excited sense of urgency in her voice. I managed to crawl out of bed and, after a strong cup of coffee, was soon enthusiastically making copious amounts of multicolored slime.
We went swimming on Sunday and repeatedly played tag. This game delights both of us. I sometimes get strange looks from adults, but I don’t care. It’s fun to be a child again. We argue vigorously about whether or not she tagged me or I her. “No, that doesn’t count!” Sunshine screams if I touch her hair then claim tag. She has a special set of rules that apply only to her. And she’s fiercely competitive.
Driving home, she asked could we stop at a road side fruit stand and buy lanzones. We got a kilo. She kissed my back a few times as she clung to me during our precarious drive on my motor bike up the mountain.
Later that night before going to bed, I went into Sunshine’s bedroom to check on her. She was sleeping deeply, sucking her thumb, and cuddling a security blanket she’d had since childhood. The song Scarlet Ribbons, sung so beautifully by Harry Belafonte, entered my mind. I marveled at Sunshine’s beauty and innocence, but then began to feel melancholy.
I shut down my emotions and left her room.
The love between a father and his child, especially a daughter, is I believe, the most special bond of all. Innocence, her unquestioning trust, the inaccurate belief her father is correct in every way, her joie de vivre, the, as yet, unsoiled knowledge of life’s darkness, are elements I’ve witnessed with Sunshine.
The experience has transformed me. And I’ve been gifted a rare opportunity to finally succeed as a father.
But my gratitude is mixed with sadness. Sunshine is eight. I’m 69. It’s improbable I’ll be alive to see her 21st birthday. I’ll definitely never witness her fulfill her destiny. The term bitter-sweet is not only appropriate, but painfully- accurate.
I’ve put a copy of this article into a safety deposit box at the bank to be given by Vhie to Sunshine after I’m dead. While my absence from her life will perhaps be regrettable, I hope this article will remind her of special moments we shared, while also confirming my deep love for her, and appreciation for having her in my life.
I’m now going to borrow from another Irishman, Sullivan Balou, who once wrote a love letter to his wife. I’ve adapted it slightly with Sunshine in mind.
“Sunshine, my love for you is deathless. It binds me to you with mighty cables that nothing could break. The memory of the blissful moments I’ve spent with you come creeping over me and I feel deeply grateful for what we have briefly shared.
Never forget how much I have loved you, and when my last breath escapes me, it will whisper your name. Please forgive my many shortcomings and any discomfort I may have caused you. If the dead can come back to this earth, I will always be near you in the brightest day and the darkest night, during your happiest and loneliest times, always, always.
And if there is a soft graze on your cheek, it will be my breath. If the cool air fans your temple, it will be my spirit passing by. Although I will be physically gone, and unable to observe you fulfill your destiny, my love will always gently surround you, my beloved Sunshine.”
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Author’s email: irishauthormichaelcassidy@gmail.com
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