“I miss my dad, but I also wish he didn’t treat life like a group project he stopped showing up to. Still love you, though.”
Okay, let’s be real.
I miss my dad. A lot.
Sometimes randomly — like when I eat sinigang that actually tastes right, or when I hear a corny dad joke and go, “He would’ve loved that.”
But here’s the thing that’s hard to say out loud (but I’m saying it anyway):
I wish he did more.
Not more for me necessarily.
Just… more for himself.
He wasn’t abusive. He wasn’t awful. He wasn’t even loud.
He was just… tired.
Like he woke up one day, looked at life, sighed dramatically, and decided,
“Yeah… I think I’ll sit this one out permanently.”
And so he coasted.
Routine. TV. Occasional smiles. Mostly meh.
To be fair, I don’t blame him entirely. Life is hard. Gas is expensive. And Wi-Fi wasn’t a thing yet, so maybe he didn’t have enough memes to power through.
But it still stings. Because I saw so much potential in him.
He could’ve written a book. Opened a store. Traveled. Laughed more. Dreamed more.
Lived more.
I miss him, but I also want to shake him a little.
Like, “Dad, why’d you give up on life halfway through the movie?”
There were still snacks left. There was a second act.
Plot twist incoming!
But he clocked out. Emotionally. Mentally. Spiritually.
And now I’m here — doing all this adulting stuff — and wondering what kind of person he might’ve been if he kept trying.
Still, he had his moments.
He was funny. Quiet-funny. The kind of funny that snuck up on you and made you wheeze.
He made the best fried rice I’ve ever had.
He was kind. Gentle.
And when he looked proud of me (even silently), it felt like a full hug.
I carry those memories. I treasure them.
Even while wishing there were more.
I’m not angry. Just sad. And motivated.
Because I get it now. Life wears you down. But I’m also learning this:
You don’t have to win all the time — but you have to try.
And every time I push through a rough day, or keep learning something new, or even just get out of bed when I’d rather sleep for six years — I do it partly for him.
Because if he couldn’t finish the race, then maybe I will.
TL;DR:
- I miss my dad
- I wish he fought a little harder
- I still love him
- I just wish I had more than memories and half-baked dreams to hold onto
.