Remembering Papa...

As my family is going fast forward to go to Papa's place at Kalasungay... I'm pausing a bit to post this memorial note that I published in Facebook last Father's Day (June 21, 2009)... Sharing it again to everyone...




MY ROCK...

From the moment we lost Papa to a massive heart attack last May 14, 2009 to the time we sent him to his resting place six days after, his 69 waking years photo-played to us in full color and grandeur. The stories and anecdotes shared by mama, his siblings and relatives, his close friends, and even his apos made me appreciate more how Papa journeyed the world as an upright son, a loyal friend, a persevering brother, a doting lolo, a faithful husband and a hardworking provider.The way he lived his life came home through the outpour of caring messages, prayers, flowers and faces who paid their last respects. The generosity of relatives and friends were far more perplexing.

Two days prior the burial, I told one of my bestfriends that Papa’s passing was very arresting to me, because in loosing him his hard headed youngest found his real self.

His passing made me recollect the life rule that he edified for me to go by –“to make every day count.” His and Mama’s modest parenting armed with that rule continue to lead me to a world of beautiful stress, miracles and incredible friends whose definition of care is yet to be uttered. Really, at the end of Papa’s life, the job that he had, the home that he proudly built, and the farm that he painstakingly tilled were eluded by what I and my sibs have become because of him.

Despite the countless good things mentioned during his wake and the things that I’m starting to parley, you might think that Papa’s perfect. No he’s not and I never dreamt of him to be. I grew up seeing him to some extent detached and yes his smile is very costly, that you need to push hardwork in school to the next level to get that worthy grin on his face.

As his kids started to pursue their lives and his youngest with his conquests... their merits no longer satisfy him as before, yet his face became brighter. Why? This is because his crowning glories are increasing in numbers and are growing up (needless to say... more hard headed than I am)... his apos. His wistful glees are more manifested during Sundays and holidays, especially when he’s surrounded by his noisy and messy apos. This time the more noisy and messy his home becomes the more smiling he is. Sundays and holidays will never be the same again, we’ll miss his smile, notably his beautiful idea of peace at home around the clatter and clutter of his apos.

The 100-meter march from St. Ignatius Chapel to Papa’s tomb last May 21st was by far the longest walk that I took, yet the most humbling experience not only because of the throngs of people who accompanied us to bury him but the realization that life’s hard, but my hardships are nothing against the hardships that my father went through in order to get me to where I started. Humbled that he didn’t tell me how to live; he lived and let me watch him do it. What is more... he watched me lived my life with a very accepting heart.

“Pa, I can’t thank you enough… for loving us unconditionally... love you more..."

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I-way recitals of a traveler, a gourmand and a pupil of life…

A JadedKnight by day and a CC Manager by night...


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