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Dads are the BEST!!!! <3

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I Feel yah sis!

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we have so much love for our dads

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Cole my love too

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T_T beautifully written with a heart-constricting content.

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no word can't express her love :'D

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Kitchie saved me

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I will always be here if you want to talk mwamwamwamwamwaaaa

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same with Tj hay

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i remember the time you showed me a pic of your dad, showing his a** na may nakasabit na something hahaha

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Your hair :D

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hi sheila i hope you'll get through your social anxiety it takes time :)

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Aww Dads are just the best, huh? <3

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Same!

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sana babae rin ako para maging Daddy's little princess rin ako

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That must've been a tough time for you, but I'm glad you found your "Sun" :)

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I love Cole Sprouse too!!!

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sweetie patootie

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I do remember you telling a story about your teacher back then. She is truly admirable and so are you.

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Mendoza, Lizamhel

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malandi journal #1

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I feel you bro. Swak bro. Haha

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Your text moved me to cry a bit and remembered the hardship of my mom for us. Our mothers will always be the best. ;')

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Then it is amazing how you managed to overcome yours for a short time. it was good that it was short-lived for you ;)

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I am happy for you, Marc! :)

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bros before hoes

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@Sheila I had an almost similar experience in the past, too, but it was only for a short time. But there aren't challenges that we cannot overcome :)

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another mama's boy
SALUTE brotha!!

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I understand you, Carmelli. I, too have a similar relationship with my dad. I am also like him, except for my sex. :)

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The bond of brothers huh.. wish I had a brother.. haha

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I love your mom and dad so much. They treat me like their own daughter din. So sweet. Papa-adopt na ko tbh

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“Mata ang pinanghahanap, hindi bibig!”

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My Father: My Mentor, Guardian, and Inspiration

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My Father: My Mentor, Guardian, and Inspiration

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Samantha G. Zaballa

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any boy's first love is his mother..

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Hi, Simon!  "Lettuce be friends" is what you told me before the start of class in chat and being alone is fun as well, but whenever you need friends. We're here for you! :D
Btw, my Mama would always ask how are you because you were the first classmate of mine
she met.

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I always passed by Bulacan whenever we go north. I have never seen and appreciated the place but it's nice to know how you have such a great love for your homeland

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from one lola's boy to another...
RESPECT

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I love the way you led the readers in your story. I hope you're happier now. <3

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We never understand their ways, but I agree regretting every moment hurting the feelings of our parents.

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Set It Free

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Andrea Jamaica H. Jacinto

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<3 <3 <3

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mothers, in general, are selfless

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Gian Herrera

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I love how inspiring Tita is. Can't wait to meet her.

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Hi, Vina! Moms are always the best! :)

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I miss my lola

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Yes, Ryoma. Bulacan for Art App.

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you have twisted philosophies, simon. and i love people who are passionate and firm with their belief system

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Never been to Bulacan but this post made me curious. Bring me to Bulacan, Jeff!

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Literally made me cry. You write beautifully Ma'am.

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Hi, Ma'am. I suddenly remembered my grandma .

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Nihilism...
never thought I'd meet someone like you Simon :)

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indeed, no one can equal the warmth of a mother's love <3333333333

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cute!

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Self love is beautiful too. I hope I'll develop that skill (?) one day. <3

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Homesick college student seeks inspiration in going home

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I love your brother too!

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This is my balita...

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T. Papasin

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Man in white

He was a man of few words. A very quiet man, whose silence earned him other people's respect.

I never saw him wear anything but white. In his 92 years, that was the only color he would have in his closet. He was always well dressed and well mannered. He was vain and I love him for it.

When he was 79 years old, he was diagnosed to have cancer of the prostate. The family was devastated. Being the eldest and the only one left in the Philippines to take care of our parents, I took the responsibility of taking him to the hospital every day for his radiation treatments. He was a good patient, never complaining, always following what the doctor says.

In response to his sickness, he became more religious. He prayed the rosary every day and asked people to pray for him. He was given five years to live, he defied science, for he lived up to 92. Indeed, prayers seem to work more powerful than any drugs. He was a classic example.

In 2012, I needed to go to New Zealand to take care of a grandson, my first. It was so difficult to leave a sick father, but I also needed to be a mother to my daughter. The day of my departure, as I kissed him goodbye, he asked as to when I would be back to which I replied, "just in time for your birthday". He looked at me and took me by surprise as he held both my hands and kissed it. I guess that was his way of thanking me for all that I have done for him. I was humbled by him.

Two weeks later, he died.

We are a family of few words, never vocal or showy of our emotions. The day my father kissed my hand, was the day he showed me what love, gratitude, gentleness is all about. The words ceased to be abstract. He lived them.

Annette Ward