Happy Birthday, Pipo

Today would have been your 56th birthday.

I would have made you a chocolate cake, as I normally did on this day.

I would have been able to smile and and sing to you that little song that I take for granted on my own birthday.

Even if it weren't your birthday, I still would have been able to do so many things if you were still within my grasp. I would have been able to tell you the things that are on my mind, the thoughts that have been haunting me. I would have been able to cry on your shoulder. You would have been able to tell me that everything would be all right.

I would have been able to tell you that I love you very, very much.

And I still do, Pipo.

But today, I will not make you a chocolate cake nor will I sing you "Happy Birthday." I will try to find a way to smile, but it won't be because you are here.

If I do smile, it is because I will think of the things and people for whom I am grateful to still have with me. If I do smile, it is because I remember the most cherished memories that I have of your smile, your laugh, your voice. If I do smile, it is because I know you would be proud of me for what I am as a person. I owe that to you.

I love you very, very much, Pipo. I always will.

Your daughter

Happy Father's Day, Pipo

Pipo,

Has it already been five years since I last celebrated this day with you in person? I cannot believe it...

Your sudden departure affected the very core of my existence. At the time, I never imagined myself surpassing the hurt that left me debilitaded for days. I felt pain, confusion, even anger. I never imagined that I would begin my adulthood without you in my life. But I had to. My life could not come to a halt. I could not prevent myself from continuing to grow and live.

But it was hard, Pipo. It was very difficult to start such a tumultuous period of life without you. What I truly miss are your words of wisdom. You always had a good opinion. You always gave good advice. And your humor. You always made me laugh.

I won't forget what you once told me about the role of the body and the importance of the soul. "The body," you said "is nothing but the puppet of the soul. The soul is what truly matters."

You were one of the most cultured and wisest men that I will come across. You nurtured my mind with books. Books, you said, are the fertilizer of imagination and knowledge. You taught me to appreciate the simple things. To this day, I don't look at a sunset without thinking about you.

So, don't worry, Pipo, the lessons you passed on to me will remain in my spirit for the rest of my days.

Missing you terribly today,
Your daughter