November 5, 2016 | A Birthday Wish for My First Favourite Man, Who Occasionally Tests His Daughter’s Blood Pressure

If there were an award for the man who could make his daughter laugh, worry, complain, and temporarily reconsider the meaning of patience—all within the same afternoon—I have a strong suspicion that my father would be a leading candidate. I say this with considerable affection, of course, although I would appreciate it if the judges considered my emotional suffering before announcing the winner. At fifty-six, my dear father has acquired a respectable collection of life experiences, opinions, and habits, some of which I admire tremendously and others I would happily submit for immediate reconsideration. But that is the interesting thing about having a father. You can love him with your entire heart while occasionally wanting to confiscate his privileges as an adult and remind him that he is supposed to be the responsible one in this relationship.

Today, November 5, my father turns fifty-six, and I find myself wondering how to write a birthday greeting that is sufficiently affectionate without allowing him to believe that his daughter has suddenly become incapable of delivering a proper lecture. I could write something beautifully sentimental, praising his wisdom and thanking him for everything he has done for our family. Those feelings are certainly present, but I am also his daughter, and I believe honesty is an important family tradition. Therefore, Fadear, before we proceed with the birthday greetings, I would like to discuss a small concern regarding your continued enthusiasm for alcoholic beverages.

Akong giampo nga mawala na unta ang tanang ilimnon sa kalibutan para dili na ka moinom, ug para dili na ma-stress imong gwapang anak! I realise that asking God to remove every alcoholic drink from the face of the earth might be considered a rather ambitious birthday request, particularly because it would involve inconveniencing an extraordinary number of people who have never even met our family. Nevertheless, I believe the proposal deserves consideration. If eliminating every bottle is too complicated, perhaps we could begin with the ones that keep finding their way into your social occasions. I am confident the world would continue functioning reasonably well, and your daughter might finally enjoy a little peace of mind.

All jokes aside, Pa, I really do wish you would take better care of yourself. You have already spent fifty-six years navigating life’s responsibilities, and I would very much like you to enjoy many more birthdays in good health. I know you have your habits, your preferences, and your own ideas about how life should be enjoyed. I also know that having a daughter who happens to be a nurse means you are occasionally subjected to unsolicited health reminders, especially when I believe you are being unnecessarily careless. Consider it one of the privileges of fatherhood. Some fathers receive neckties, shirts, or birthday cakes from their children. You receive medical reminders disguised as expressions of affection, delivered by a daughter who has apparently inherited enough stubbornness to make the entire conversation entertaining.

I suppose I have reached the age when I am beginning to understand why parents worry so much about their children. When I was younger, I sometimes thought adults were unnecessarily dramatic whenever they reminded us to be careful, eat properly, and avoid things that could cause trouble. Now I find myself doing something remarkably similar, except that the person receiving the lecture is my own father. What a peculiar reversal of responsibilities. I spent my childhood being reminded to behave, and now I occasionally feel compelled to remind you to look after yourself. Life has a rather interesting sense of humour, although I suspect you would prefer it if I returned to being the obedient little girl who accepted parental instructions without offering an entire argument in response.

Unfortunately, that little girl has grown into a woman who possesses opinions, professional knowledge, and a mouth that occasionally operates faster than her ability to remain diplomatic. I know I can be maldita, Pa, and I am reasonably certain this information has not escaped your attention. Sometimes I complain, sometimes I become impatient, and sometimes my concern emerges sounding suspiciously like an official warning rather than the affectionate reminder I originally intended. But beneath all that noise is a daughter who genuinely wants her father to remain healthy and happy. If I occasionally sound like I am conducting an inspection of your lifestyle, please remember that I am doing it because I care, even if my delivery could benefit from a little more grace.

There is something strange about growing older and beginning to recognise that our parents are growing older alongside us. During childhood, fathers seem almost permanently capable of handling whatever life places before them. We become accustomed to their presence, their familiar habits, and the assumption that they will always be there to provide advice, express opinions, or occasionally make decisions we do not agree with. Birthdays gradually remind us that time is passing for everyone. Fifty-six is another year worth celebrating, but it also makes me more conscious of how important it is to appreciate the people we love while we have opportunities to spend time with them.

Perhaps that is why I have become so interested in reminding you to take care of your health. I have ambitions, dreams, and plans that I am still working towards, and I would like you to be part of the important occasions waiting somewhere in my future. There are achievements I hope to share with our family, celebrations I want us to enjoy together, and milestones that would feel particularly meaningful with you present. I cannot possibly know when every plan will happen, but I sincerely hope you will continue looking after yourself so that we have many more opportunities to make memories together.

And speaking of future milestones, Pa, I would like to remind you that I am not yet married. Therefore, you have a very important responsibility to remain healthy and available for the occasion, whenever it eventually happens. Layo-layo pa inyong huwaton nga maminyo ko, so palihog ayaw sa pagdali ug katigulang! I realise that this may sound like an unreasonable request from a daughter who has not even provided a definite wedding schedule, but I believe fathers should be prepared for these matters. Consider it an extended reservation for an important family event, with the date to be announced once your daughter has successfully completed the necessary arrangements.

I can already imagine you reacting to that statement with whatever combination of amusement and parental commentary you consider appropriate. Perhaps you will ask when I intend to settle down, or perhaps you will simply laugh at the fact that I am making demands about an occasion that remains somewhere in the future. Either way, I hope you understand what I am really saying. I want you to be there. I want our family to celebrate important moments together, and I want to continue creating memories that have nothing to do with expensive gifts or elaborate occasions. Sometimes I think the things we will appreciate most as we grow older are the ordinary opportunities to be together, long before we realise how meaningful they have become.

I have never believed that loving our parents means pretending they are perfect. Fathers have their own weaknesses, personalities, and habits, just as their children do. We may disagree, become irritated with one another, and occasionally find ourselves having the same conversation several times because neither party is particularly interested in surrendering. But love does not disappear simply because family members are capable of testing one another’s patience. If anything, our relationships become more interesting when we begin accepting that the people we care about are human beings with their own complicated personalities.

You are my father, Pa, and I love you even when you make me worry. I love you when we agree and when our opinions collide with enough enthusiasm to make a perfectly ordinary conversation sound like a formal debate. I love you even when my concern comes out as pagkasabaan, and I hope you recognise the affection hiding beneath my occasional sharp remarks. I may not always express myself as gently as I should, but I would rather remind you repeatedly that your health matters than remain silent simply because I am afraid of sounding demanding.

HAPPY 56TH BURPDAY, FADEAR!

I hope your fifty-sixth year brings you good health, more reasons to smile, and the wisdom to recognise when your daughter is offering perfectly reasonable advice. I hope you enjoy the ordinary pleasures of life, spend meaningful time with family, and continue finding things that make you happy without allowing unhealthy habits to interfere with the years ahead. I know I cannot control every decision you make, nor should I expect to. You are still my father, and you have lived considerably longer than I have. But I hope you will consider my concerns because they come from somebody who wants to continue celebrating your birthdays for a very long time.

Perhaps one day I will become less maldita and develop the remarkable ability to express every concern with complete patience and elegance. I cannot promise when that transformation will occur, but I am willing to entertain the possibility. Until then, you will have to accept the daughter you raised: affectionate, occasionally stubborn, terribly opinionated, and deeply concerned whenever the people she loves forget to look after themselves. I suspect you deserve at least some credit for the personality I have developed, although I am not entirely certain you will wish to claim responsibility for every part of it.

So, happy fifty-sixth birthday, Fadear! May God bless you with good health, strength, peace of mind, and many more years to enjoy the company of the people who love you. I pray that you will continue making choices that help you remain well, especially when your beautifully concerned daughter is not around to deliver her regular reminders. Please take care of yourself, Pa, because there are still birthdays to celebrate, family gatherings to attend, and a wedding somewhere in the future for which I fully expect you to be present.

And if you are wondering what birthday present I would most appreciate giving you this year, it would be the opportunity to stop worrying quite so much about your health. I realise that may require a little cooperation on your part, but I believe it is an entirely reasonable arrangement. You look after yourself, and I shall attempt to reduce the frequency of my lectures. I cannot guarantee complete silence, of course, because being your daughter appears to involve a lifelong commitment to making sure you are behaving sensibly.

I love you, Pa, maskin maldita ko usahay. Please do not mistake my complaints for a lack of affection. Sometimes they are simply the less graceful language of a daughter who wants her father to remain part of her future for as long as possible. You still have plenty of memories to make with us, and I have not yet finished accomplishing the things I hope you will witness.

Besides, you cannot possibly retire from fatherhood before I get married. I have already assigned you an important role, and I am afraid the position comes with no option for early resignation. So behave yourself, look after your health, and enjoy your birthday. Your daughter may occasionally behave like a miniature thunderstorm, but I assure you that beneath all the dramatic weather is an enormous amount of love.

Happy 56th Burpday, Fadear! Ampingi imong lawas, kay daghan pa kaayong birthdays ug family celebrations nga atong paabuton. I love you, maskin usahay murag mas daghan pa kog kasaba kaysa imong edad. Charoot!

November 5, 2016 — for my father, whose birthday deserves both a celebration and a gentle reminder from his favourite self-appointed health adviser.

— Your gwapang anak, Anj, RN, who loves you very much and is still campaigning for a healthier version of her Fadear.