What are my fondest memories of my dad? Growing up and up until now, I saw my dad as one of the coolest people on this planet. And I’m not saying this because he’s my father but because I genuinely believe that he is.
Everyone, including my friends, my brothers' friends, both my parents' families, our neighbours, his friends and peers, all have confirmed it.
If you ever want to meet a real joyful person. Look no more; that is my dad.
He is funny(always have a good laugh with him), smart (downplays this, such a humble guy), talented (he can sing and dance, a good swimmer and tennis player, and a natural instrument player), a man of service (always there for anyone who needs help), and a genuinely happy person ( everyone wants to be around with).
He likes music, and this is evidenced by the loud music echoing through our house early in the morning, which used to wake us up.
He loves to cook, he is a good cook. He goes to the market and comes home to prepare us something tasty to eat at all times. Oh! How I love and miss the food he cooked!
One of my vivid memories was him waking me up at midday, this was the next day after I went out with my friends clubbing and drinking. As he woke me up, he said, “I cooked some soup for you, you need to eat lunch, and when you’re done you can go back to sleep”. I thought this was one of the sweetest things he had ever done to me. For people who drink, you guys know what comfort home-cooked food means, especially the next day when you’re still intoxicated. This act was special, and it will always have a place in my heart.
He knows how to have a good time. He loves to drink, sing, play cards and just be merry with his friends, family or anyone around him.
If there is anything I learned from my dad, it’s the idea of fun, laughter and connection to people.
My dad was born and raised in Cebu, a rural town in the Philippines. He was the second to the last child of eight children. He was born to an intellectual and artistic family.
He loved his grandson! That is the thing I found most endearing about him. As a mother to a child with an intellectual disability, there were challenges raising my son. He required special attention and patience. But this did not bother my dad who cared and loved him dearly. They would go to the park together, hang out at benches while watching the cars go by, they would play at home, and do other grandpa and grandson stuff. I remember all those moments, the two of them together, and it warms my heart each time I look back. He is one heck of a person!
These are the things I saw and liked about my dad. But he was not perfect, not at all! Like any human, he came with his flaws.
I think I greatly loved and respected him, and that was enough to look past any of his shortcomings.
I mentioned earlier that he drinks. He actually drinks a lot. He is the type of person who can drink from morning until late at night. He would pass out anywhere and anytime, and there were times our neighbours would knock on our door to tell us that they saw our dad and that he had passed out somewhere. #funtimes!
I also recall a time I asked permission to go out with my friends one evening while he was drunk. He got irritated, and I ended up getting beaten. I remembered not being able to walk the next day because my bruises were all so painful.
He was a chain smoker. We used to live in a very tiny apartment, around 15m. I would get suffocated by the non-stop smoke inside the house.
He was a gambler. He would gamble away his salary and money and, at times, leave the family financially drained.
He was hardworking but lacked ambition. Growing up, we had always been poor. I remember one time the landlord locked our apartment because of default payments. I was also on the promissory note in school, and food was scarce.
In spite of all these not-so-favourable things about my dad, I still respected him and loved him dearly because I knew that, at his core, he was a good person. And there were enough good times to trump off the bad. He made a number of good-feeling deposits to my emotional bank.
Because of the unhealthy lifestyle and habits he adapted, he started to get sick. And at 65, he passed away from lung cancer. It was one of the lowest points of my life.
At that time, I just moved to Canada, and I had many dreams for him. I wanted him to come here for vacation, to tour him around. I also wanted to take him to the US, one of his dreams. He had siblings and cousins who lived in the US; it would have been nice if that happened.
I love my dad so dearly, and his passing left a dent in my heart. It's tough. The days, the months and even the years after. He was that burst of energy and laughter, and it was gone. All gone. I often think about him.
In one of the lowest points of my life, I silently reached out to him and pleaded. "Please save me, dad". "Please look out for me because I can't do it alone." He did. Despite him being gone, I know I can still call on him. He hears me, and he listens.
In all this, I want to pay tribute to my dad and thank him for all his perfection and imperfections. I am so grateful that he is my father. I wouldn't want it any other way.
He taught me to be happy no matter what, and that our circumstances don't define us. There is always a silver lining. I am the person I am today because of him, and for that and so many more, I am incredibly thankful to him.