Dear Mom and Dad,

 

You’ve dealt with me for 18 years now and I still don’t know how you do it. You’ve taught me everything I know. Along the way, sure, we’ve had our differences, but I can’t deny that these lessons are invaluable. Together as a team, you have guided me and gave me the tools to create my own moral compass. But individually, you have each taught me something special.

Let’s start with Mom.

Mom, the greatest thing you have taught me is passion, drive and intellect. You’re the most passionate person I know, which at times has been unsettling. Your temper is something that was passed down to me too but it’s simply because you feel so strongly about certain things. But I’ve seen how passionate you are for your family. You fight for the ones you love. You put your feelings aside for their well-being.

Being the oldest, you were the stronghold of your own family. Despite the differences you had with your dad, very strong ones that turned you away from him for some time when you were younger, you still drove to whatever hospital or facility he was every day to take care of him, spending more than half of the day at his side. You did this from when he had a stroke all the way up to his last breath. Because whatever he had done in the past stayed there and you saw his true heart to the core.

Another thing that you’re passionate about is helping others. I’ve seen this with your brother—my wayward uncle. My American friends who come to our home will sometimes see this large box in the corner. They’ll ask what it is and I’d tell them that you send anything and everything, from food and clothing to movies and toys, back home to the Philippines to help your brother survive, even if at times, he may not deserve it. You taught me to help people, even when I think they don’t deserve it, because at the end of the day, it is the right thing to do.

You’ve had many sleepless nights juggling two—or even three jobs at one point—while raising my sister and I. When I was little, despite how tired you were, you would bring my sister and I to countless activities: ice skating, gymnastics, dance, tennis, swim lessons. You name it. We did it. And while most moms will just drop their kids off and bounce, you stayed.

I remember one time you and I were fighting. You brought up the sacrifice you made for us when we were kids and I yelled at you saying, “you were there but you were asleep.” I didn’t think about the fact that you had just worked a double. Or that you had no sleep, being that you work the night shift and our lessons were in the morning, right when you got home.

You gave us your all. And that’s something you made sure we learned how to do as we grew older. Especially in school, but also for life in general. Give it your all or don’t do it all. Because doing it half the effort, is worse than not doing anything. “Take pride in your work”, you always say.

 

You’ve got a big brain, Ma. Skipped some grades in high school and didn’t even graduate. You ended up going straight to college. Something that you don’t let us forget—please read that with humor.

But you didn’t just teach me good studying habits (which I may be losing right now because senioritis real) or book smarts. You taught me how to be smart with money. We aren’t struggling financially, but you’ve taught me what the value of a single dollar is. Janelle and I are the mini coupon princesses taking notes from the Coupon Queen. You always taught me to learn the facts. Do your research. Be prepared. Because if you don’t, then you’re taken advantage of. Learn the system and use the rules to get the best.

Mom, thank you for teaching me what it means to truly love. It means joyful sacrifice. Thank you for teaching me what it means to be wise in terms of finance and education. Never go into anything blind. Don’t be naive. Read the terms and the conditions. Grab a magnifying glass and read the fineprint. Give it your all- but only give it to things that are worth your effort.

There are many more things you have taught me, but I don’t want this to be a novel so it’s Dad’s turn.

Dad, you have taught me countless lessons too. But the ones that I love the most, that I treasure more than anything in the world, is that you taught me the meaning of value, how to smile, and how to be kind and humble.

You’ve had very humble beginnings. Born and raised in the Philippines to a family of eight, often you’ve had to fend for yourself. Your family was poor, but you were happy enough. But because of your upbringing, you treasure every little thing that comes your way, something that never fails to amaze me.

Sometimes, things that I deem useless still hold value to you and you often stop me from throwing it away. Like food. One of your greatest concerns growing up were whether or not you would get to eat that day. Sometimes it was only a slice of tomato and a bit of rice. And when it was a really bad day, it was leftovers from the trash.

I remember when I was little, when I wouldn’t want to eat something, you made me sit at the dinner table and watch everyone else eat. You said: “Don’t you know that when I was your age, I would have done anything to have this meal? If you do not want to eat, then okay. You can starve”.

It may seem harsh but in all  honesty, that discipline helped me become a non-picky eater. Everytime I take things for granted, you always pull me back to realize what’s important and that’s something that I want to pass down to my own family some day.

I also really love your humor. It’s never a dull day with you. When I’m upset about something, you always find a way to cheer me up without needing to ask me what’s wrong. You know how to read my mood. Your willingness to be silly and make others laugh really makes you the life of the party.

You taught me that even in the tensest situation, there’s always something you can do to lighten the mood. In all honesty Dad, you have a lot in your life that has the potential to weigh you down. But you never allow it. Your heart is in engineering, but you work at a psychiatric hospital so that you can make a living.

You take care of elderly people, wipe their bowel movements, basically take care of their well-being. You work too many days a week and you work long hours. And then when you come home, you have to cook for us and fix whatever is broken at the moment. And so much more. But I never hear you complain. And sure, you have bad days, but almost everytime I see you, you have a smile on your face.

My life isn’t as hard as yours, but sometimes my attitude simply just sucks. You inspire me everyday to be positive and to choose joy.

And you’re kind to people even if they don’t deserve it, like Mom. Everytime I’m steaming with fury, ready to hash out my anger by trash talking someone, you make sure to bring me down real fast. You tell me: “You don’t know their situation.” I tend to see things one-sided really often but everytime I do, you make me realize the importance of giving the benefit of the doubt.

I’ve seen people be completely racist to you, targeting you because of your broken English, but you don’t bat an eye while I’m over in the corner ready to throw hands. I asked you once and you said: “Pity them, anak. They live their lives mad and end up missing out. You never know if they’re going through something too.”

You’ve ingrained in my mind to, “never judge” and to “never ever compare two people”. That’s something I’m still working on, but I see how those lessons have made an impact on you. You exemplify the true meaning of kindness.

Dad, thank you for teaching me what it means to be be better as a human. It means giving people the benefit of the doubt when all you want to do is judge them. It means smiling even though your tired, because wasting a single second on focusing on negativity is just that. Wasted time. And thank you, for teaching me to see the priceless worth of everything.

There are so many things that I want to say, but as I said earlier, it might take forever. But just know that, I really appreciate you and love you a lot. Even when I play cold sometimes and never say much about my gratitude, know that I’ve been paying attention all along.

 

Love,
Jhenevie