My left foot stepped on a slope of a curb on my way to get our car to attend a church seminar on parenting. It was embarrassing. I literally collapsed in view of about twenty tricycle drivers converged on the other side of the road and a bunch of beauty parlor clients behind me who probably saw everything. It was painful. Not my pride - it's the farthest thing from my mind. I quickly recovered and was able to come into a one leg kneeling position waiting for the numbing pain to subside. A good minute passed then I stood up to walk, injured but walking - albeit slowly and painfully still.
I continued walking to my car, which is about a good 30 yards away. Ack! Eck! Argh! I thought to myself as neighbors cautiously ask me what happened. Each step was excruciating. I smiled and said, "natapilok ako."
Night time. Malou helped prepare a bucket full of ice and water and dipped my swelling left foot in it. "Aaaaaa!" It was more painful. I couldn't believe how painful it was. At this, my one year and eleven months old son, Kye, came and started rubbing my legs as I lay on our couch. With his innocent voice he ask me, "Daddy. . .are you okay?" It was still very painful - mind you - but I was amazed at how concerned he was. He understands. I couldn't care less what happened to me now when your son who, at his very, very young age, know that his dad is not okay and he was showing that much care.
Day two. It's Sunday morning and I wrote this piece in honor of God who taught me to teach and demonstrate love that I am now getting from my son. I never wrote anything about my fatherhood (which was one of the main purpose of this blog) experiences. I blinked and now here. I'm glad I blinked. It's was one of those moments that you would like to read over and over as time passes by.
My son. I love my son. Thank you God.
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