Baby @17

She can kill with a smile

She can wound with her eyes

She can ruin your faith with her casual lies

And she only reveals what she wants you to see

She hides like a child

But she's always a woman to me

Maybe. But not quite. 

Though she has that smile that even with braces will melt your heart away.

No lies casual or otherwise to ruin anything.

Truth is, she's 17. My baby Nikkei turns 17 today.

Please let me take a moment to process this.

(Moment)

I am sort of meditating on what this means to me.

I'm stuck in the middle of two thoughts: one of feeling happy and proud she can make her own decisions, and another of feeling anxious and uneasy she can make her own decisions. A midlife crisis if ever there is one.
This seat of mine is getting hot to the buns even if I've just sat on it a few minutes.
Is this the time for me to change my email signature into

     Father of a 17-year old daughter ?

just so my clients will understand my sudden unusual business behavior?
     Yes, dear client. We can submit the entire design tomorrow. Cool white or warm white?
     Your name again, pls?
     Yes, 90% discount it is!   

Or maybe start saving for the big party a year from now?

Or for any of the long list of her birthday wishes I've made mental database of:

     European tour (kuya kasi, eh!); item B; item C; bantam car; beach party; item F, G, H; Macbook Air -wait, this is out of the list already. 
I can recall only so much. You must understand, Nikkei is our second child delivered by C-section. It has greatly affected my memory. 

Is there an instruction manual for dads when daughters turn 17? 

There's a good reason for me feeling like this and many fathers will agree with me. Nina Kristin is my favorite daughter. Not just because she's my only daughter but I swear, even if I had 5 more, she would still be my favorite. The one I love most. Seriously.

Wait! I remember item B: teach her how to drive. She's halfway there now. She drives me nuts already.

Do I have to learn the answer to the question, You can't tell me what to do, I'm almost 18!

But my Nina Kristin wasn't raised to be like that. Her mom and I made sure of this.

She may mumble her words that only another female teenage fan of 1D can understand;

At 5 years old, she may have literally cut the telephone line with a pair of scissors

(and tried reconnecting -unsuccessfully with a scotch tape);

At 6, she may have inserted a rubber part of a toy into her nostril knowing at the back of her mind, these are the stuff that memories are made of and so made them;

And even now, she may not know the difference between North and South because she only knows One Direction.

But she's 17 now.

More responsible.

More respectful.
Most resilient. If you take the LRT everyday to school, you will know the meaning of resilience.

She's smarter.
God-loving.

Most beautiful in my eyes.

Wait! I remember item G: a driver's license. The picture in the license will look like this:

This should save her a traffic citation.

Some things haven't changed. I will still tell her to do the dishes, now!

She's only 17 and I am not a bit worried.

I'm not allowing my fatherly emotions get the best of me. Yet.

She is frequently kind

And she's suddenly cruel

She can do as she pleases

She's nobody's fool

But she can't be convicted

She's earned her degree

And the most she will do

Is throw shadows at you

But she's always a baby to me

(-She's Always a Woman by Billy Joel)

Happy birthday, Nikkei. I have so much love for you.

Nineteen Years Ago

Doe-a-dear,

You may have forgotten, nineteen years ago today, I wrote you a poem for our first anniversary. I kept the original manuscript which was a challenge since we've changed address twice over the last 5 years.

   Address was just one of many changes that happened, you must agree. The biggest change undoubtedly is the answer to the question, How big is your family? I remember we asked each other how many kids we want. I said 4 and you said 3. Collectively that's seven. Did you ever think that God gave us what we wanted? Put in all the challenges, the demands, the worries, the stress -and oh yes, we can't leave out the joys, the smiles, the hugs, the kisses and the laughter, with Andre and Nikkei, it's been like raising 7 kids altogether. No, this is not complaining. This is my simple way of thanking God for helping us raise 7 with 2. If you do the Math, that's 49!

Back to the original manuscript -the poem. Am no poet, am no writer, either. It took some time to make words rhyme you must realize. It would have been easier if Google had been there to help out. But no, it was 3 years late. I guess it must have been something good that pushed that pen to write those words. Think no more, it's the ink. A mighty ink. And before inefficiency in filing management and time take their toll on these two tiny sheets of paper, I've decided to immortalize the poem by publishing it here.

Nineteen years ago, this was how i felt. Nineteen years hence, I still feel the same. Read on, Doe-a-dear and live on. We have a life ahead of us.

 And oh, doe-a-dear, happy anniversary. I love you. I hope you like 'em.

Buck-a-dear