I wrote an article as a tribute to my father whom we call Dada, few years ago before I started my blog and so I had to transfer this as a blog post (see The Sound of His Music) later on. It's another Father's Day that we have to celebrate away from Dada.
My father hails from Ilocos Sur (Northern Philippines). Young as he was then, he had dreams that took him to the far side of the seas and when he was independent enough, he chased his dream in Manila and lived with various relatives in the city. My father is the extrovert type and he got on well enough with people from different walks of life. He can adapt to any situation and can live anywhere.
My father is also an intellectual type of person-- the young lad who would always emerge at the top of the class. Poverty and economic downturn prevented him from finishing his college degree. He was a working student then in Manila but when the store he worked for was foreclosed, it became difficult for an undergrad to find a new job that will enable him to support his college education. But Dad continued to study and finish a degree in Avionics even after he was married and had children.
Being the eldest, I had my share of earliest memories with Dada when life was much simpler and economy was still glowing. When he was still working in the Domestic airport, I remember Dada always arrive home in the evening with football chocolates, balut, flat tops or chocolate crispies. He visits my grandmother and his relatives living then in Pasay some Saturdays and I would tag along and he would buy me chocolate frosted donuts in Harrison Plaza. I don't vegetables and seafoods then, which were his favorites. He would cook fried chicken, porkchops or fried egg and hotdog when the food isn't to my liking. You can say I was spoiled.
And because he was very good in Math, he gave me a hard time when I couldn't memorize my multiplication table in my 3rd grade. It's ironic I did end up taking engineering many years later.
During my college days, I would commute every weekend from Rizal to go back to my dormitory in Manila and would be bombarded with his litany of hundred combinations of routes to take to Manila and this annoyed me. My mom told me later that it is only because my father still sees me as his little daughter.
When my heart got broken (or likely it was just my pride that got dented), Dada and I did not talk about it but I knew he is aware of what's going on, through my mother. All he can say was to forget the good-for-nothing fool. And I knew he was right. It was just a case of wounded pride.
When I started working in Makati, Dada will still wake up ahead of me and make sure there is hot water in the kettle, or that there was hot food that I can eat before leaving. And if I will arrive home late in the evening, he would wait at the entrance of our compound, knowing fully well that I would be walking through the dimlit alley leading to our house because he knew I was too stringy to take a tricycle ride.
Thank you Dada for being there for me all those years and even for continue to spoil us long after we had our own family and during the times when we can't be there beside you and Mom.
You are always in our thoughts! Happy Father's Day Dada!
My father hails from Ilocos Sur (Northern Philippines). Young as he was then, he had dreams that took him to the far side of the seas and when he was independent enough, he chased his dream in Manila and lived with various relatives in the city. My father is the extrovert type and he got on well enough with people from different walks of life. He can adapt to any situation and can live anywhere.
My father is also an intellectual type of person-- the young lad who would always emerge at the top of the class. Poverty and economic downturn prevented him from finishing his college degree. He was a working student then in Manila but when the store he worked for was foreclosed, it became difficult for an undergrad to find a new job that will enable him to support his college education. But Dad continued to study and finish a degree in Avionics even after he was married and had children.
Being the eldest, I had my share of earliest memories with Dada when life was much simpler and economy was still glowing. When he was still working in the Domestic airport, I remember Dada always arrive home in the evening with football chocolates, balut, flat tops or chocolate crispies. He visits my grandmother and his relatives living then in Pasay some Saturdays and I would tag along and he would buy me chocolate frosted donuts in Harrison Plaza. I don't vegetables and seafoods then, which were his favorites. He would cook fried chicken, porkchops or fried egg and hotdog when the food isn't to my liking. You can say I was spoiled.
And because he was very good in Math, he gave me a hard time when I couldn't memorize my multiplication table in my 3rd grade. It's ironic I did end up taking engineering many years later.
During my college days, I would commute every weekend from Rizal to go back to my dormitory in Manila and would be bombarded with his litany of hundred combinations of routes to take to Manila and this annoyed me. My mom told me later that it is only because my father still sees me as his little daughter.
When my heart got broken (or likely it was just my pride that got dented), Dada and I did not talk about it but I knew he is aware of what's going on, through my mother. All he can say was to forget the good-for-nothing fool. And I knew he was right. It was just a case of wounded pride.
When I started working in Makati, Dada will still wake up ahead of me and make sure there is hot water in the kettle, or that there was hot food that I can eat before leaving. And if I will arrive home late in the evening, he would wait at the entrance of our compound, knowing fully well that I would be walking through the dimlit alley leading to our house because he knew I was too stringy to take a tricycle ride.
Thank you Dada for being there for me all those years and even for continue to spoil us long after we had our own family and during the times when we can't be there beside you and Mom.
You are always in our thoughts! Happy Father's Day Dada!
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| Dada and Mama's visit in Singapore (April 2011) |
happy spoiled! :P
ReplyDeleteYeah, yeah! Those were the days when it was easy to be spoiled.
ReplyDelete