Papa

Love at first sight.

A good father makes all the difference in a child's life. He's a pillar of strength, support and discipline. His work is endless and, oftentimes, thankless. But in the end, it shows in the sound, well-adjusted children he raises.  I have read this statement this morning that leads me to write about my father, about papa.

Our family.

Papa is almost 70 years old now. We were avoiding to elaborate more about his illness, but close friends already know that he is battling for his dear life. I am looking our old photos and his very recent picture that my sister sent to me. Again, I sit and opened my jar of my happy memories. When it comes to a happy childhood memories, I can say, it is not just a jar, but a bucket, or even a drum. I have so many to recall.

My sister is a year older than me. I was about three years old when mama gave birth to our youngest sibling, Don. Papa and mama raised us in a very simple home. We live that time in Ombao, a small barrio in Bula, Camarines Sur. Papa need to stay in Manila to work as a taxi driver. We stayed in Ombao with mama. Me and ate have our first school there. Papa just comes home to bring what we need.

Papa made us feel like a rich man's daughter with Curly Tops

I remember we went every afternoon in the river bank to wait if there is a boat that will arrive and hoping that papa is there. There are no telephones, no mails that time. In case of emergency, people use telegram. When papa arrived, he made us feel like a rich man's daughter when he brought us Curly Tops. I remember how mama keeps papa's dirty shirt after he left, for me to sniff at night because mama said, I gets sick when papa is away.

Although Papa came from a family who owns a big land in Camarines Sur, he used to be a wanderer, he doesn't own a house and we move from one place to another. The longest residence, we have had was in Bagong Silang. We have lived there for more than 20 years.

You can imagine how proud father was papa when my elder sister started school. She received the highest honor in her school among the first grader. Then I also started schooling. Me and ate always received the highest honor on our elementary days. Papa has that big grin on his face when he received those honors with us.

The wind beneath my wings.

Papa has no higher education. Mama said, papa just reached Grade 3? Mama finished Grade 6 but she runs away from home because his father doesn't like her to go in High School and finish college. Papa can't read and can't write English. His Filipino spelling is not that good, but he reads well in Tagalog. 

I remember how papa practice me and ate in our spelling skill. He says places and buildings in Manila like Manila Hotel, Luneta Park and so on, and we write them on a paper. He will check them afterward if our spelling is correct.

It was also an enjoyable time when we read the Bible loud to him. As we have grown up, we learn how to decide for ourselves as their children. We don't talk about boys to papa and mama. Me and ate talk about boys to each other and with our friends. So it was a big surprised to them when we made a big decision in life without their consent. But all of us are thankful because papa and mama still loves us.

My last Memorial with papa and mama.

A drastic changed now to papa and mama's life. Papa is fighting for his illness and still hoping and praying that he will get better. Many times of the day, I think of him. What always cloud in my mind is, his face, his expression when me and my husband were in the taxi and already leaving going to the airport, for me to stay for good in The Netherlands. His face was somber with a little of the pain. Maybe even they like me to stay with them longer, papa and mama just  let me go to also have a life of my own. Papa is aged now, but happy.

I am proud of my roots and grateful to whom I now belong.

Even he is sick, his voice is firm when I am talking to him on the phone. I am grateful to my siblings for taking care of papa. I am too far away to be there too whenever papa is in pain. But what touches me is papa's strong faith to God. Papa and mama have seen it that we are imperfect children. There were times that we disobeyed them, times that we caused them tears and pain. I can say that not on the happiest times of our lives that we can show perfection. It is in the darkest times that we can show our love to our family almost perfectly. As for myself, I am proud of my roots, and grateful to whom I belong now.