My father was a very intentional teacher. This is him instructing how his picture should be taken. Whenever, whatever and wherever, he would point out lessons, give principles, or state what is right or wrong in a situation.

”Violet, first, do not…”

”Violet, second, you should…”

”Violet, third, this is how you do it.”

I remember getting irritated many times because at a young age I thought I knew it all. I felt I was too cool for my father’s seemingly traditional lessons.

Today marks the 5th year of his death and I realized, he was teaching me that way because he wouldn’t be here to guide me all my life. As he always says, life on earth is temporary.

Now that I’m all grown-up, I cry remembering all the times that I frowned, shut my ears and took for granted the lessons he imparted. Now that I’m married, I am thirsty of my father’s instructions. I find myself floating in a river of questions longing for his practical wisdom.

”Pa, what shouldn’t I do?”

“Pa, what do I do then?

”Pa, how do I do it?

If I could only turn back time, I would sit by his side and take notes — numbered and bullet points with illustrations.

You may still have time, grab your pen before it’s too late.