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February 17, 2007
Heart, Azmina.

Dear Azmina,
You’ve been crying a whole lot lately. We’ve been getting into a number of arguments, mainly because you still cannot understand how things are supposed to work. Sweets before bed make you hyper and would make it difficult for you to get quality sleep. Fighting with your little sister is not good. Not sharing is bad. Homework is a necessary evil. Being on time is important.
Mornings are especially hard – it’s a struggle to get you dressed and get you to eat something. You always say that it’s a holiday when it’s not. When your teacher was late one day, and the class room was still locked and dark, I believed you for the 15 minutes we waited outside class.
Maybe because I can see a lot of me in you; it compels me to treat you a bit like an adult that you aren’t. I know you strive to be five when you’ve only celebrated your fourth birthday last January.
You see Azmina, both you and I are the eldest in the family. Your posture reminds me of how I was when I was your age. You have a good memory – when you were barely walking, you won’t give me face for a few months because of something that happened earlier. You are also forgiving – nowadays our disagreements don’t last very long. You don’t eat much breakfast, cos I know your little tummy doesn’t wake up till about 2 hours after you have opened your eyes. Sour doesn’t bother you… at all. You have trouble with unfamiliar faces, which makes it hard to deal with your extended family. This will pass. You hate milk. This isn’t a temporary phase in your life. You love ice cream, and your mother doesn’t know this, but I must be around six when I too preferred mint chocolate ice cream to other flavours. Nobody will ever know why. You have a mole on the sole of your foot. Yours is on your right, and mine, on my left, so that when we give each other high-fives with our feet, the two can meet like two long-lost halves. And of course, you are cute because I am your father and you are my daughter.
Like I do with your sister, I miss you when you aren’t around. Grandma picks you up from school most times, and I try to have lunch with you whenever I can. Grandma is also eating a lot of chicken during her lunch hour because you don’t eat much of anything else.
Your love of music moves your body every time a good tune is played. We are not destined to be great dancers. We love the same song that we have in the car CD player. Sometimes you would make me play the song 7 times in a row, from the time I pull out from the driveway, till we reach the school. You know the words to the chorus even though you don’t know what it really means. Basically it’s about someone getting hurt. It isn’t a particularly happy song, but if it makes the two of us happy singing it together, then you would agree there isn’t much else to think about.
Heart,
Your Papa.
Ps. After you had finished all the lemon segments in the picture, you made a bangle out of what’s left.
Posted by quickness at February 17, 2007 06:07 AM
Comments
What a wonderful letter to a wonderful daughter. I love it dude! It puts in words what I feel for my daughters. Thanks for sharing that and keep it coming!
Posted by: AnakBrunei at April 19, 2007 08:23 PM
Hello !! :)
My name is Piter Kokoniz. Just want to tell, that I like your blog very much!
And want to ask you: will you continue to post in this blog in future?
Sorry for my bad english:)
Thank you:)
Your Piter Kokoniz, from Latvia
Posted by: PiterKokoniz at April 8, 2009 03:04 AM
Authentic words, some truthful words man. You rocked my day!!
Posted by: unjumebuins at January 3, 2010 08:51 PM