My father passed away December 22, 2003 — yes, three days before Christmas. It’s been almost 5 years since he left us and today marks my 5th Father’s Day celebration without him. It’s been a long time and a lot of things have changed since then. When I look back to the time that he was still alive, I can’t help but think of how much my life would have been different if he was still here. Most likely, I wouldn’t be married yet, I’m working myself to death and happy doing it over and over again for them. Maybe I have my own pre-owned car, living in a small house I bought for them, continuing my studies and many more other could-have-been’s. But now, life is different, all because he left.

Life With My Father

My father was strict but sweet and thoughtful at the same time. No Valentine’s Day passes without us his “girls” (mom, sister and myself) getting greeting cards, not hand-delivered but mailed to our own address, stamped and signed a few days in advance just to make sure it reaches us on Valentine’s Day itself. He’s also big on birthdays. When I turned 16, I remember getting a special gift from him. In his stern and military-sounding voice, he summoned me one day, a few minutes after I got home from school.

When I look back to the time that he was still alive, I can’t help but think of how much my life would have been different if he was still here.

He asked me to go to his “office” (he had a small home office at home that time) and sporting his usual poker-face, handed me a box and a red envelope. The red envelope of course, contained his “trademark” greeting card. The box, which he asked me to open in front of him, had a ladies’ watch inside. Grinning as if jokingly, he said, “Happy birthday, Baby.” “Baby” was what my family and relatives call me to this day. I said thank you and left his “office”. I went to my room (me and my sister’s, actually) and read the red card from the red envelop. It said “You’re now a lady. Happy Birthday.”. Reading it then, it made me happy. Recalling it now, it makes me cry. I miss my father, I miss my Papa. I wish he didn’t leave so soon.

Did I mention he was strict? Oh, he was very strict. I never experienced visiting a neighbor’s house and eating lunch in a friend’s house — all because my father didn’t want us staying in someone else’s house longer than an hour. I have few memories of “field trips” in school too because he banned us from going places unaccompanied by my mother. And when you’re in highschool, chaperones aren’t exactly allowed, you know. He also forbade us from watching movies in the cinemas. Believe it or not, the very first movie I saw was “Jurassic Park 1”. And I only got to watch it after much convincing since it was required in our Biology class. So, yes, I was 14 then. I watched it accompanied by my mom, sister and driver at the then Alabang Twin Cinema (now Alabang Town Center). Swimmings and out-of-town parties are obviously not allowed as well. Our school report cards were thoroughly checked (specially the “comments” part). Receipts are required when I buy books and pay for other school requirements, not because he doesn’t trust me, but because he was just that — strict in everything. Boyfriends were a no-no, at least until I turned 18.

My Father At The Lowest Point of His Life

Shortly after having having a second “stroke” (he was both hypertensive and diabetic), he lost housing projects. He was a building contractor and derived much of his income supervising housing projects in posh subdivisions. Well, we couldn’t really blame his bosses, he was after all, too sick to go to work everyday. My father was highly intelligent and therefore had high self-esteem. But being without work for a long time can take its toll. He then became very moody, mostly quiet and staring blankly into space while “perched” on his favorite spot outside the house. He would sit there day after day, all day, watching the world pass him by as if relishing every minute of it. The truth is, diabetes has probably made him “slow”. He would look at usual events and ponder hard about them. Sometimes, I feel he just needed someone to talk to. His eloquence and charm which won him many friends and several terms as Barangay Captain (a small community public official) in his native Sta. Elena in Bula, Camarines Sur has now left him. He probably lost interest in all things, thus choosing to remain quiet instead. I did want to talk to him but I was so busy making money at work so I thought, “maybe next time”. That “next time” never happened. Just starting my usual activities as Technician at Laguna, checking for machine problems, discussing endorsements from the previous shift, I received a call from my mother. My father was rushed to the hospital, a third stroke. Findings revealed an internal hemorrhage in the left brain caused by hypertension. An operation was made to “evacuate” clotted blood in his brain. He was in the ICU (intensive care unit) since December 17 up to the 22nd when his body can no longer take it and finally succumbed to multiple organ failure (from diabetes).

My Father As My Source of Strength

I was devastated. The whole time he was in the hospital, I felt like dying myself, very slowly. To this day, I believe, “Baby” has died as well. The achiever, optimistic, driven, and happy person has died with him. Collecting pieces of myself shattered by his death, I felt like there are pieces I can no longer find. I cannot be put together again. My life will never be the same.

I have high regard for my father. And my father has high regard for me as well. He was most proud to come with me in “stages” year after year, pinning achievement pins or putting medals. He is the only person (aside from my mother) who truly believed in me and in my potentials. He has always been my source of strength. His mere existence made me strong knowing that should my efforts fail, he will be there to help me out, open arms. So even when he wasn’t talking, I knew he would always be there for me and I felt relieved just with the idea of him being there.

My Father’s Legacy

Of the many things my father has taught me, by example, not by words, I guess the one that stays with me is this. True love exists in this world. Whether you find it or not is up to you.

Me and My Papa in the good ‘ol days

He loved my mother so much and I am a living witness to that love.
He also taught me the value of generosity. He was a generous man.

True love exists in this world. Whether you find it or not is up to you.

Whatever little he has, he shares with people around him. Many wept when he died, each of them telling stories of how my father helped them. He was everybody’s “savior” when something went wrong. Many loved him and respected him. I guess, when I die, I want to somehow tell myself that I’ve helped a lot of people the same way he did. That is my father’s legacy and I pray to God that it be mine as well. So, Papa, wherever you are, Happy Father’s Day. This day’s celebration has changed a lot since you left, but the very reason I celebrate it remains the same — to honor you and the many wonderful reasons that make you the father I will always love.