A Father's Message

"He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it." ~Clarence Budington Kelland

It was a random quote that I found on the internet when I was looking for quotes about life. It seems so meaningful to me because that's how you brought me up. I've never been so much thankful because you treated me that way. I know that I can't express much but I wanted to wish you a happy father's day. And I love you so much and I miss you...

:) Christelle

Dear Christelle,

Your kind words for me have lifted up my spirits here in a far far away land a place where a father shouldn't be ...because a father should be with his family...but the sacrifices that a father does knows no bounds whatever it takes to seek a better life for his family...which is why I am far from you...but no doubt in spite of the distance that separates me from you...I will always have a bond forever with you...because of this fact: You can ask your mom....many years ago when I was working in Mactan...you came into our lives in 1994...of May...but by September of 1995 ...I had resigned from my job...and I was jobless and the only job left for me was to take care of a little toddler...that was you...who was just a little over a year old....I know you may not remember these times but we have pictures together of playing house made of blankets...goofing around...and setting up a small plastic swimming pool for you and your cousin Jaydee to play around...those times were one of the best times of my life...with you...I lost my job then but I got the best job in the world...To be a Daddy and to watch my baby grow...and now...you have truly grown into a fine young lady...not yet a full woman by itself...but rest assured I would still be there to watch you grow each breathing day of your mom and your dad's life...so please take good care of yourself...be kind to yourself...don't over smart or over think on matters that are not really important...you have to be more patient with yourself...a person does not just unfold and becomes his/her "person"...the person is a journey of becoming...of growing up in a world so full of many experiences that are both necessary and unnecessary life situations that contirbutes to your "becoming"...Its the same old narrative story of the Love Story between The moth and the light

A lonely moth towards the light made his flight
In his love for the candle faced his plight
Flying to the fire would bravely display
His love for the candle in his own way

Hovering around the flame in love's name
He played a risky game no one to blame
Noticing candle's tears he just had to ask
I am the one in love, why this tearful mask?
Don't you see I am the one burning his wings
Yet for love, to his life, no moth clings
You don't need to shed tears for my life
In this love, my only hope is my strife.

The candle steadily burnt with constant flame
Amazed at the ignorant moth's lack of shame
Since the day my sweetheart left my wax
Separated and apart, I can't relax
This flame that you see upon my head
Is the fire that my love's light may spread
To the whole world. My honey perhaps by chance
May see my longing, in a distant glance.

You may fly, hover, even singe your wing
I will stand on fire, bearing its sting
Love is not to frit and fret and display
Love is to quietly burn night and day
Love is not to burn a wing and then fall
Love is to be on fire standing tall.
You may burn your wing, yet you'll never know
What it means to burn from your head to toe
Fault me not if I shed a tear or two
It is for my sweetheart not the likes of you.

At this point the gathering stirred about
The hostess, with a blow, put the candle out
The smoke rose from the blackened wick
Spreading its odor throughout, quick
The candle with a quiet sigh simply said
Though my light is out, my love is not dead
This smoke that is coming from my head
Is aroma of my love that I spread
Then I just will sit here, patiently wait
For the next night's gathering, and my fate
This may give me a chance with the flame's dance
To shine my light for a glance, my dream romance
I'll continue this till the end of my time
Spread my love to every land and clime
Either with my beloved become one
Or spread so far and wide till I'm gone.

This was candle and moth's love story
A tale of bravery and quiet glory
True love is not for the strong and the brave
True love is lasting, testing to the grave
In your life if it is love that you must taste
Patiently, quietly burn, make no haste
If it's the ocean of love you must sail
Be willing to navigate and then fail
Because love has no size and no form
Be willing to lose your ship in the storm.

© Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, CA
December 26, 2001

Inspired by a Poem from the great Persian Poet, Saadi, entitled "the dialogue of Candle and Moth", from Boostan-e Saadi, Chapter 3 (On Love and Intoxication and Joy)

Anyway...Here's the Old Moth and Young Moth Story as Told by Jose Rizal's mother to him when he was just a child...as narrated by Rizal

Upon hearing the word story I opened my eyes expecting a new and wonderful one. I looked at my mother who leafed through the book as if looking for it, and I got ready to listen with impatience and wonder. I didn’t suspect that in that old book that I read without understanding, there could be stories and pretty stories.

My mother began to read to me the fable of the young and the old moths, translating it to me piece by piece into Tagalog. At the first verses my attention redoubled in such a way that I looked towards the light and fixed my attention on the moths that fluttered around it.

The story could not have been more opportune. My mother emphasized and commented a great deal on the warnings of the old moth and directed them to me as if to tell me that these applied to me. I listened to her and what a rare phenomenon the light seemed to me more beautiful each time, the flame brighter, and I even envied instinctively the fate of those insects that played so cheerfully in its magical exhalation. Those that had succumbed were drowned in the oil; they didn’t frighten me.

My mother continued her reading, I listened anxiously, and the fate of the two insects interested me intensely. The light agitated its golden tongue on one side, a singed moth in one of these movements fell into the oil, clapped its wings for sometime and died. That assumed for me that the flame and the moths were moving far away, very far, and that my mother’s voice acquired a strange, sepulchral timbre.

My mother finished the fable. I was not listening; all my attention, all my mind and all my thoughts were concentrated on the fate of that moth, young, dead, full of illusions.

“You see?” my mother said to me taking me to bed. “Don’t imitate the young moth and don’t be disobedient; you’ll get burned like it.”
I don’t know if I replied, promised something, or cried. The only thing I remember is that it took me a long time before I could sleep. That story had revealed to m e tings unknown to me until then.

To me moths ceased to be insignificant insects; moths talked and knew how to warn and advise as well as my mother did. The light seemed to be more beautiful, dazzling, attractive. I understand why moths fluttered around lights. Advices and warnings resounded feebly in my ears. What preoccupied me most was the death of the imprudent, but at the bottom of my heart, I didn’t blame it. My mother’s solicitude didn’t have all the success that she hoped it would.

This story influenced me a lot...in spite of my mother's warnings to me about not to do bad things...I didn't listen to her and continued to do the things I thought that I should do (I was arrogant to the point that I should not listen to others)...I was stubborn...I didn't heed her advices...which is why I made a big fool of myself...cause a lot of hurt and broke my mother's heart...sometimes a person doesn't have to make mistakes to learn the lessons in life because he was forewarned already...but people do the opposite...they intentionally have to make mistakes to learn their lessons...its like the child who kept on running and running so fast and the father told the child please don't run around...walk slowly and be careful...but the child didn't listen until she stumbled and skinned her knees badly which were now bleeding...and that was the only time the child stop running...

This is my father's day message to you...please take care of yourself and your mom for me...I love you both...

Papa Eddie