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Happy Father’s Day — Especially to You, Papi José 💚

Madrina Claudia Chambers | JUN 15, 2025

Today, I want to honor all the fathers out there—those who show up, who stay, who give of themselves even when the world has told them to hide their hearts. Fatherhood is not just a role—it is a commitment, a practice, a quiet revolution of love. To every father who continues to walk that path: thank you.Your love, your sacrifices, your presence—it all matters. ~ And today, I want to shout out my own father—Papi José. I will always be a daddy’s girl.And I will always love you, Papi. Siempre. (Always.) It wasn’t always easy being your daughter—but one of the things I’ve come to understand is this: when you said I was persistent, it’s porque /bc you taught me to be. You taught me to keep going.You taught me, “si vas a hacer algo, hazlo bien.” (“If you're going to do something, do it right.”)And for me, “bien” always meant—con corazón. (w/heart.) You taught me not to be lazy. You taught me boundaries.You taught me SelfNess—by saying NO all the time in the store so we wouldn’t be those whiny kids.You taught me that things don’t bring joy like a stroll through the jungle, or the quiet beauty of butterflies. I love that you made it a point to always come home at a certain time, to make sure you were the one responsible for us. That matters. That presence—it stayed with me. And oof, I still remember when Ms. Marty tried to smack my hand with a ruler and I told her, “NO!”She said she was going to tell you, and when she did—you looked at her and said,“I don’t hit my kids, and you’re not going to touch them either.”I was like... YESSS. I felt so seen. So protected. You apologized once on a trip, for bringing work home with you—which really meant, for being critical. But Papi, I understood. Your work was important—checking the computers on airplanes so they wouldn’t fall from the sky. Looking back… it was serious. It mattered. It shaped me. And yes, maybe it could’ve been softer, pero también—it was just your way. (but also—it was just your way.) It was the way you learned from Abuelo. I love that you have actually allowed your heart and words to soften thru the years and you try your hardest to stay true to yourself. I love that you’re still moving. Still trying. Still taking care of yourself. That inspires me. You Inspire me. I have that little space in the mountains because of you and your dreams. And recently, I realized… that dream, It’s not really mine anymore. The chase of the dream felt better than the dream itself.My real dream is just being with my family. And Papi… the quietest times with you. They were the deepest.Like when I’d come home from school and you’d be taking your siesta (nap).I’d lay my head on your belly or your chest and just listen to you breathe. That became a turning point for my asthma.It’s how I learned the beauty of just breathing. You may not realize it, but I learned more from you—at home, in nature, watching National Geographic, reading The Flight of the Birds—than I ever did in school.That’s why I homeschooled my daughter. Porque tu ejemplo was more than enough. (because your example was more than enough.) You taught me to love the Earth.To respect the animals.To find Life in the trees.To walk slowly.To think deeply. Gracias, Papi. (Thank you, Papi.)Por todo. (For everything.)Por siempre. (Forever.) Te amo con todo mi corazón.(I love you with all my heart.) Feliz Día del Padre.(Happy Father’s Day.) ~ Maktub Claudia
Today, I want to honor all the fathers out there—those who show up, who stay, who give of themselves even when the world has told them to hide their hearts. Fatherhood is not just a role—it is a commitment, a practice, a quiet revolution of love.

To every father who continues to walk that path: thank you.Your love, your sacrifices, your presence—it all matters.

~

And today, I want to shout out my own father—Papi José.

I will always be a daddy’s girl.And I will always love you, Papi. Siempre. (Always.)

It wasn’t always easy being your daughter—but one of the things I’ve come to understand is this: when you said I was persistent, it’s porque /bc you taught me to be. You taught me to keep going.You taught me, “si vas a hacer algo, hazlo bien.” (“If you're going to do something, do it right.”)And for me, “bien” always meant—con corazón. (w/heart.)

You taught me not to be lazy. You taught me boundaries.You taught me SelfNess—by saying NO all the time in the store so we wouldn’t be those whiny kids.You taught me that things don’t bring joy like a stroll through the jungle, or the quiet beauty of butterflies.

I love that you made it a point to always come home at a certain time, to make sure you were the one responsible for us.
That matters. That presence—it stayed with me.

And oof, I still remember when Ms. Marty tried to smack my hand with a ruler and I told her, “NO!”She said she was going to tell you, and when she did—you looked at her and said,“I don’t hit my kids, and you’re not going to touch them either.”I was like... YESSS.
I felt so seen. So protected.

You apologized once on a trip, for bringing work home with you—which really meant, for being critical. But Papi, I understood. Your work was important—checking the computers on airplanes so they wouldn’t fall from the sky. Looking back… it was serious.
It mattered. It shaped me.

And yes, maybe it could’ve been softer, pero también—it was just your way. (but also—it was just your way.) It was the way you learned from Abuelo. I love that you have actually allowed your heart and words to soften thru the years and you try your hardest to stay true to yourself.

I love that you’re still moving. Still trying. Still taking care of yourself. That inspires me. You Inspire me.

I have that little space in the mountains because of you and your dreams. And recently, I realized… that dream, It’s not really mine anymore. The chase of the dream felt better than the dream itself.My real dream is just being with my family.

And Papi… the quietest times with you. They were the deepest.Like when I’d come home from school and you’d be taking your siesta (nap).I’d lay my head on your belly or your chest and just listen to you breathe.
That became a turning point for my asthma.It’s how I learned the beauty of just breathing.

You may not realize it, but I learned more from you—at home, in nature, watching National Geographic, reading The Flight of the Birds—than I ever did in school.That’s why I homeschooled my daughter.
Porque tu ejemplo was more than enough. (because your example was more than enough.)

You taught me to love the Earth.To respect the animals.To find Life in the trees.To walk slowly.To think deeply.

Gracias, Papi. (Thank you, Papi.)Por todo. (For everything.)Por siempre. (Forever.)

Te amo con todo mi corazón.(I love you with all my heart.)

Feliz Día del Padre.(Happy Father’s Day.)

~ Maktub
Claudia

Madrina Claudia Chambers | JUN 15, 2025

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