My Father is not perfect, I admit. But I love him so much. He is a fighter, thing I didn’t inherited from him. His strength maybe comes from his faith spiritually, as a Pentecost. Although he stopped providing our needs financially because of an accident and issue between him and my mother, he never stopped connecting to me. They are separated and I lived with my mother, until now. Sometimes we visits our hometown. My intention to go there is to visit my father, that’s my only reason.
My memory with him is my treasure. When I was a kid and he’s still working at Golf in intramuros. He always go there with his bike. Every time he go home I always asking for 3 pesos coins, which he can give as long as he have money. On my birthdays he always give me an ice cream or cake. And when I was in high school I was able to buy him anything because I have enough earnings. We went to church in Guadalupe, before we go home I treated him in Jollibee. We ate Jollibee Chicken Joy worth 79 pesos each.
My name is Jane.
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