In my childhood, I came to know what a family was--a mother, a sister and me. That was my picture of a perfect family. We were happy; we shared everything together in a small room we rented; I was five then.

As I grew older, I realized things are incomplete. I started searching for the care of a father. I envied my peers who shared time with their Dads. I dreamed and longed for someone who would care for me, someone whom I could call "Daddy". Although we had the chance to see and meet him; I never felt his presence. Being with to him was just very ordinary. There was no time I saw him at our doorsteps in any of my birthdays or special occasion. The very sad part of seeing him was his second family. I felt betrayed! It was unfair!

I have gone through pains seeing my mother in misery while she struggled for our life, especially when there was nobody she could run to whenever we got sick. I recall she had to climb to fix the roof herself to patch holes during storm! Yes, it was a complete family, a father and a mother in one.

I have questions about the changes in me, physically and emotionally, but whom should I ask. I wanted to tell stories about girls, courting and other sort of things, but he was not there to listen. At 27, I'm now a father to two wonderful kids but all my life I never had a chance to experience life with a father. In my heart I don't hate him. Yet, there are questions left unanswered and one day I want to ask him.

Nevertheless, life didn't stop. I stood tall and made myself worthy of a man, and now a father. I may not be the best father, at least I am trying to be one.

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