Man of the Hour


Each one of us has someone we idolize. Someone we look up to. Someone we wish we can be like in the future. The reason behind these things is that we saw something interesting to that person that we wish we were also able to do things he/she has done. He may be a superhero in a K-zone magazine. He may be successful in his chosen path. He may be a Guinness book of world record title holder. Or he may be your professor.

I once joined an essay writing contest back in high school. It was actually an event organized by a church near our school. And since I’m active at co-curricular activities during high school – due to the fact that co-curriculars are part of our grade (I enjoyed joining a lot of competitions and training anyway), I joined the contest right away.

The essay’s theme was about our fathers being a hero. At first, I didn’t know where to start, what to write. Writer’s block. As usual. Plus, I got distant from my father since he went abroad. But it occurred to me that this should be easy. I knew why he is a hero. He’s my father and a father is everyone’s Superman. Needless to say anything more about what I wrote. But I actually won the contest (we were only two who joined the contest but who cares, I still won bruh! Ha ha ha)

Yes. My father is indeed a hero. I won’t be who, where, what I am now if it wasn’t for his unconditional love. He has gone lots of sacrifices when he became a father. The hardest sacrifice he made yet was to live far away with us, to miss the celebration of every achievement we earned, to work with people of different race and culture, and to celebrate Father’s Day all by himself – that whole deal, all in one. Although he’s 4,375 miles away from us, the distance didn’t hinder from letting go of the love we have for each other. Good thing, it’s easier to communicate now that there’s a lot of ways to see and talk to with him.

He is very selfless. He never flew here to celebrate his birthday or Father’s day. Instead, he always chooses to fly back here in the Philippines whenever it’s our Graduation or summer vacation or Christmas break or birthday of my sister and mother (which falls both in July so his one-month yearly vacation fits). It really shows his unconditional love for us that he prefers to satisfy our happiness first than his. Because for him, as long as we are happy, he is also happy.

More than that, I am very proud of my father. For me, he suits well as the epitome of success. He is an Electrical Engineering graduate but worked as a salesman after he finished school and during his first years at Dubai. But he knew that even though he enjoys being a salesman, the engineering profession still has a huge place in his heart. So when he saw an open door to pursue what he studied in college, he took the chance and grabbed the opportunity. After all the hardships and taking chances, he was able to work for a company and eventually became a project engineer. I really admire how hardworking my father is and how strong he is to handle pressure in work and homesickness as well.

Truly, he is a hero and someone I idolize. A hero who may not be able to fly and save the planet or didn’t die for his country but someone who is able to sacrifice everything just to satisfy our unlimited wants and needs and to simply make us happy and feel loved.

To the person who is always proud of me (he often shares my picture or what I post in Facebook just to tell everyone how happy and proud he is to his future engineer/son which makes me proud of myself too because I only feel proud when others are proud of me), Happy Father’s Day! Thank you for everything! I love you and see you soonest!

Man of the Hour

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s