To My Male Progenitor

I'm his female version, physically, that is. "Mouth"-wise, we're north and south, east and west. He can go on for hours without speaking; I, on the other hand, gets uneasy with silence. But this is not about me. For four years, he drove me to my university dorm every Tuesday, brought me sustenance in the form of mother's cooking on Thursdays, and drove me home on Saturdays. Repeating the cycle for yet another week. For four years! He awkwardly comforted me when I failed a subject; he didn't seem to know what to say. He tolerates me and my mother when we're on one of our high-pitched gabfests. Like I said, he doesn't speak much. When we were robbed and one of the robbers manhandled my brother, he got so pissed and got his gun, fought like crazy, and got shot; thankfully, he recovered. Years later, he gave me away in marriage. Again, without saying much. Well, aside from "Bakit kayo papakasal na?" [Why do you need to get married soon? ] (note: I was already on my VERY late 20s then; TheBoyfriend-now-TheHusband wisely replied, "Kung hindi ngayon, kelan pa?") Then he became a lolo, which brought him so much joy because he loves kids. He and Sharkteeth are so close and they're always making chika with each other. My tight-lipped father---talking? A lot? I really didn't see that coming. We've never been outwardly affectionate toward each other and we always hold each other at arm's length, but I never doubted his love for me or for our family. I'm not sure I can say this to his face, but, Daddy, I love you! Happy birthday!