Donovon and I went to see Soundgarden and Nine Inch Nails at the 360 Amphitheater tonight. I like Soundgarden a lot more than I like NIN, so I enjoyed their set a lot more. But we had a fabulous time nonetheless, and I’m so thankful for getting to see Chris Cornell live again with my hubby!

Probably my favorite Donovon dish, his pork marsala blows me away.  It is simply creamy-buttery-marsala-pork-goodness.  I felt a little down today, missing Daddy a lot.  Donovon’s cooking comforts me like nothing else.  Today, I’m thankful for his pork marsala.

We saw Guardians of the Galaxy tonight.  It was a really fun movie and I loved it.  As I mentioned in my post about Donovon, the one hobby we share is movie-watching.  We watch plenty of movies at home, but going to the movies is always a welcomed treat.  We tried The Moviehouse & Eatery this time and found it to be an impressive experience.  Not only were the seats extra comfy, but the food was good and the service spot-on.

I always enjoy movie dates with Donovon, but I’m especially thankful for the whole experience tonight.

We met 25 years ago.  We started dating 23 years ago.  We got married 21 years ago.  Against all odds, this guy who drove to my parent’s house to pick me up for our first date in an Army green Datson with shark teeth painted on the sides and a bleached blond skater haircut, still marches through life right by my side.

Upon meeting him, depending on his mood, he’s either quiet and reserved or bursting with charisma.  His many hobbies, ranging from cooking to cycling to gaming to gardening to woodworking to reading to robotics to movie-watching to telescoping, provide subject matter for just about any conversation with most anyone.  Ironically, we only share one hobby – watching movies – although I’m trying desperately to get him to play golf. 🙂

I enjoy his cooking the most and am quite spoiled by it.  He loves to cook for family and friends.  His cooking is what everyone looks forward to when they come to our house.  And if the meal doesn’t take at least two hours to prepare, it is not worth it to him to cook it.  Yes, he’s that passionate about it.

We could not be more opposite and the same all at once, but what I love most about him is that he makes me laugh and laugh and laugh.  We could be in the middle of a heated argument and he will do or say something that makes me explode with laughter.  He does his best to make me not take myself too seriously.  And through his undeniable love for me and our girls, he makes me a better person.

I love this man and am grateful everyday for him.

Since my father’s recent passing is truly the inspiration for this blog, naturally, I dedicate my first post in honor of him.

My dad emigrated to the U.S. from the Philippines in the early 1970s.  He was the first and only member of his family to immigrate here.  His first stop was Chicago in the middle of winter where he worked for a small business as an accountant.  The brutal Chicago winter was a drastic shift from the tropics of the Philippines.  Daddy was miserable and almost returned to the Philippines.  Luckily, he decided to tough it out a little longer before pursing an opportunity to move to Austin, Texas.

It was in Austin that he made his first home away from home.  He soon met my mother – a Filipino nurse at the Austin State Hospital, fell in love, and got married.  I came along a little less than a year later and my little sister followed three and a half years behind me.

We were this small Filipino-American family with Daddy and Mommy working hard to realize “The American Dream” when tragedy struck.  Mommy, who was in and out of cancer remission, fell terminally ill in 1984.  She battled cancer for two years before succumbing to her illness in October 1986.  Her illness and death took its toll on Daddy.  Weary from grief and utter sadness, I wasn’t sure he would ever be relieved of his pain.

Three years later, Daddy found love again and re-married a year later, and he, my sister and I moved to Pearland, Texas.  A year after that, Daddy was blessed with a son.  Our family had grown and Daddy was happy again.  There was a lightness to him again, as though his pain was relieved and replaced with joy.

Throughout all of this, I was as much as a handful as I was any help to Daddy.  I lost my innocence through my mother’s illness and death.  I was angry and bitter, and I rebelled against and challenged my father every chance I could get.  Yet, as much as we pushed each others buttons, I never doubted for one second his love for me.  I kept pushing him away and he kept coming back – even more loving and caring than before.

I learned so much from my dad.  He taught me perseverance, determination, work ethic, honor and most importantly the unconditional love that comes with being a parent.  I’m grateful for every lesson he taught me, the thirty-nine years I shared with him, his laugh that still echoes when I think of him, that I’m so much like him, and that I let him know every chance I got that I loved him too.  More than anything, I’m grateful for his love that he imprinted on my soul and will stay with me forever.

I love you, Daddy, and I miss you so much.