for daddy (the "lawyer-daughter" perspective)

i actually just blogged about it a few days ago... that i remember when i was a kid, i would park myself at your desk at our house in st. michael, grab some sheets of long bond paper from your stack, pick out the shortest affidavit i could copy from your files, then re-type the whole document on your old trusty typewriter.  you would hover over me, telling me to use the proper fingers to touch-type, and i would make a face at you and tell you that my left small finger just wasn't strong enough to type the letters A, Q & Z.  then you would say, "if you really want to become a lawyer, you'll have to learn how to touch-type."  i eventually did in high school, and i remember you were so happy when i showed you i could.

then you brought me to court with you, and i was so happy on the trip to ormoc, i really wasn't listening to your warnings:  behave. don't walk about.  listen.  when the judge comes in, you'll have to stand, etc. etc.  so when the judge entered the courtroom, you had to look behind to remind me to stand, even if you were in front, at the lawyer's area.  then this lawyer started speaking in barok english, and i laughed out loud.  you killed it with a piercing glare, telling me to shut up and just observe.  (though i also remember clearly that the judge smiled when i laughed.)  after the hearing, i asked you: "how did that guy become a lawyer?  he doesn't speak english well!!! why didn't he just speak in bisaya?"  you just laughed and told me that english is the language of the law.

some of my friends believe that we have decided to be lawyers because of what we saw, heard and experienced while we were growing up as children of lawyer-/judge-/fiscal-parents.  i agree with them, but i also know that at the end of it all, no matter how much you were pushing me to go to law school right after college, you let me be when you saw i was struggling with my decision.  to go or not to go.  to stay corporate or go back to school.  eventually, you were right.  i guess i really was meant to go to law school, and be a lawyer, and i'm glad that until now, you haven't ever told me "i told you so."

you were very strict with me while i was growing up, and to get back at you and mommy, i know i was a little she-devil at times.  but you were forthright and decisive:  you did what you thought was best for me, without really making me feel that i had no say on any matter.  and for that i will always be thankful.  you made me believe i was making my own decisions, picking my own choices, making my own friends... yet you were always there to guide me on and to the right path.  so if those were really my decisions and my choices, i don't really know.   but i'm not complaining (anymore).

the adult you made me become boded well for me when you literally left me alone to face the harsh life in college.  i got what i wanted, hook, line and sinker, and you were so sure of the person that i already was, i never felt any distrust and doubt from you, only full support and encouragement for the many things i did and enjoyed in college.  thanks, dad.  UP was my decision, ateneo was yours.  and look where i am now... a happy, contented UP alumna who has never, ever, ever regretted her decision to pull out her application papers from ateneo. hehehe.

i know i broke your heart yet again when i went to UP Law.  the blue in you couldn't accept my decision, but the maroon in me convinced you that this was the best for me.  and again, you let me be... of course with the requisite challenge that i would have to pass the bar on my first try, like you.  of course i did.  (i couldn't risk not passing.  i wouldn't have dared give you fodder for your endless blue-is-infinitely-better-than-maroon campaign! hehe.)

for the record, i know i passed criminal law because of you.  who would have thought that that exact section of 9165 would come out?  thank you for telling me to memorize that provision (though it was completely gone from my head during the actual exam).  and unlike my father who is well-known as a good criminal lawyer back home, i hate crim law to bits.

well now here we are, both of us older and wiser... but of course you'll always be older than me.  wiser... i don't know.  definitely you'll always be more experienced.  and most definitely, an infinitely better, tried, tested lawyer.  sige na, i know i've been a very good, dutiful daughter, the best i can ever be.  and since i'm the only one who's taken up law so far, i'm your only child who has followed in your footsteps, and for that alone, i know i'm a notch higher than them all. (evil grin)

seriously, dad, i meant what i said... you'll always be my hero.  and i'll always be your number one fan.  i've never said this, not in the last five years or so i think, but i am very, very blessed to be your daughter, and i'm really lucky to have you as a dad.  we've had our moments, but we're velcro-ed together like two peas in a pod, anyone would know that you are the greatest influence in my life.

yes, you are.  and i'll always be grateful.