I am his Connoisseur
My dad’s love is a child. Jealous and restless. His passion for fatherhood reverberates through my soul. His words always invigorate my weary spirit.
My dad’s love is a gift. Precious and priceless. In a world where one gets swallowed by pressure and impulse, his presence in my life secures me from uncertainty.
My dad’s love is a light. Vivid and defining. His triumphs lead me to the path I must take. His mistakes show me the history I must not repeat.
My dad’s love is a stream. Overflowing with infinite generosity. Even without his physical presence, I am confined with his unwavering care for my welfare.
My dad’s love is a pole. Independent but never isolated. Nobody would believe that his thin, frail body was able to raise me as a single father after my mom passed on when I was born.
My dad’s love is an oxygen. Universal and unprejudiced. He has devoted five decades of his life fathering thousands of students inside the portals of their ‘second home’.
My dad’s love is a storm. Uncontrollable and forceful. His concern may supersede logic. We may always find ourselves at opposite poles, but our love for each other has never diminished.
My dad’s love is a voyage. Bold and daring. He helmed our family to endure the strongest waves, the most depressing trials, the most shattering truths. His courage stood up to the roster of challenges that almost tore us apart.
Above all, my dad’s love is a wine. Timeless and seasoned. From the day we first met, he has only remained prudent and dignified. His wisdom gleams a velvety resonance to my spirit. Despite his feat, he only gets finer by the day, just like a glass of wine.
-Jose Paolo Cheeseman Calcetas