Today, we are celebrating Father's Day in Venezuela. The last four years have been particularly hard given the progressive fragmentation of our families.

My son, José was forced to migrate to Perú four years ago, Vivian left for Brazil three years ago, and Anna moved to another city with her mother, which ironically is now the equivalent to moving to another country. Travelling continues being a hurdle.

_{According to @manujune, I always use the expression "Ay, mija" (oh, daughter) to prefice any of my lectures about the old good days or to anticipate a bad ending of something she was about to tell me. That is not entirely true, but it's a funny misrepresentation. I do tell her, "nah" everytime she tells me that she adores me, just because I know she will say it again and it feels very good to hear it. Many parents/children never said it or heard it.}

Even though I still enjoy the company of my step-daughter, who does not spare any creative energy to make us all feel proud and loved, it still hurts that my children are apread all over and that our situation does not get any better politically or economically. (As I write this I read the results of the Colombian elections. The left won; that means only trouble and more drama for those families who migrated to that neighbor country. It will also mean more power and support for the maduro regime, which will translate in more Venezuelans leaving the country and looking for even farther destinations).

Being a parent is a challenging task, more so when you are forced by circumstances to become an absent figure. Technology helps close the gap, but there's much that goes untold behind the phone and social media.

I miss my children badly and I can only hope that the time we did share and the guidance I tried to provide can leave lasting possitive effects in them. I think they have turned out wonderfully well, considering all the emotional turmoil derived from uprootedness and uncertainty. They have made me proud so far, but I just want them with me very badly.

All parents know that children are loaned to us. We know they will (and should) leave someday, but when that departure is forced without the certainty of return or the possibility of regular gatherings or visits, an emotional gap opens up and threatens our inner peace.

It's been another busy weekend: Teaching on Saturdays, always busy on Sundays proofreading or editing ghost writings... that helps a bit. One gets used to putting aside the nostalgia and just focusing on daily duties, but that also desensitizes the soul and in the absence of those we love we start caring less about the voids and the celebrations.

Another Father's day becomes, just another busy Sunday, except @manujune's brilliant and humorous card reminds me that the significance of the occasion can be preserved with little gestures of love and care. When our children start quoting what they see as our trademark phrases, we know we are leaving a memorable mark. It may not be like we would have wanted, but it is what it is and they will remember.

As I used to remind @imabby17 when we played at quoting from our favorite animated movies, whether we are looking for your dad or my dad, we keep swimming.

Thanks for stopping by