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A Tribute to My Dad on Father's Day

I have been having a lot of feelings since my father's illness and death and now I’m gonna see how long the feelings will allow me to speak about him.

I have a lot of nicknames for my dad. Sometimes I’d yell daddy-o or Tandang Ninoy or simply Ninoy in his direction, but more often I’d call him Papako.

My dad was never a “cool dad” in the way that fathers often try to be “cool dads.” He’s just a “cool” person whose “coolness” happens to spill over into his dadness.

My father and I had a simple and loving relationship. He was a remarkably good man, like many of the inspiring role models and mentors. Like them, he was a person of devotion and integrity, a man who understood a hard day's work. Yet, unlike most of them, he never had the advantage of a college education. He worked pretty much his entire life in two places: home and farm and yes, sometimes in his other women’s laps (LOL! I can laugh about it now and am still thankful to daddy because he remained my mom’s busy and loving husband no matter how many other women were in his tow. HAHA!)

His core accomplishment was family. And as his youngest, I always consider myself to be “Daddy's little darling”. I am his lucky beneficiary. My father poured vast amounts of love and energy into me during my most formative years. I measure it in the size of his hands. Because what I remember most about my father are those sandpaper-rough hands, made rugged from farm works. From my earliest days, he took my hand in his and we discovered the world together.

I have been privileged to have had numerous teachers and professors who I respect for their patience and intelligence. There are artists who have inspired me by their natural talents and original creativity. I value many political leaders, who have inspired me by their contributions to society, and their ability to change our futures. Of all the people I have encountered in my life, the person I admire most is my father.

Daddy means a great deal to me. He was loving and kind, he listened, suggested and defended. He had the strength of a mountain, and the wisdom of ages. He loved to tell me stories; he taught me to ride my bike. He surprised me with my favorite “pancit: whenever he came home.

I remember when I used to think my daddy was a super hero, and that he could do anything. I used to always say, "Papa, fix it." It wasn't a question, it wasn't a request, and yes, it was a statement and mostly my lambing to him. And he often tried his hardest to fix whatever needed fixing. My father faced unique challenges. He tried to do it all, carefully balancing work life with our home life. My father struggled daily to live up to "his image" as the protector, provider, and hero. Perhaps that's why my father did not seem to be emotional. But, if you look deep down in his heart, you will find that he's sentimental and "soft".

From him I have learned that sometimes you have to put others' needs ahead of your own, but not to the point they will begin to take advantage of you. His strength seemed to be unbreakable during hard times, and was extremely determined to accomplish anything he set his mind on. I hold great esteem for how he stood up for what he believed in, and would never back down. I have always admired his open mind, compassion, and sense of understanding. He was a very reserved man, but had a great sense of humor, and always knew how to keep me smiling. I remember how my father worked during the weekdays and would even labored even at night, and how we would look forward to the weekends when we would spend time with him.When he had no work at night, we would have dinner together- yes all of us complete.

For the nth time in my life, I am celebrating Father's Day this year without my dad. The man who had the most influence on the person I became passed away on October 2, 2002. Ninoy died at 75, fifteen minutes after I bade him goodnight.

As my father neared death, I put my hand in his as often as I could and would buy his sweet little pleasure, jolly sundae, every day after work. Moreover, I made sure that I would talk to him as I lay beside him on his mattress about how my life went on in a day. I wanted him to know that I was with him on his final journey on earth.

It has been said that the loss of a parent is one of life's most traumatic events. I now know the devastating truth of that statement. I've been told that, in time, the hurt will fade, only to be replaced by positive memories that soothe the soul. Already, I can feel that happening.

The loss of my father has been painful, yet also strangely reaffirming because it has made me ever more aware of the rewards of our wonderful partnership. I could only think of the legacy he left me-- a curiosity about life, a hunger for knowledge, a passion for the outdoors, an example of a life whose riches owe little to money, a sense that anything is possible if you work hard, a model of what a father
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Author: Ailyn Marfil

Category: Parents and Kids Viewed: 932 times
Username: ailyn04 Listing Ref: 536448012
Date of Listing: 25 July 2013, 14:27:57



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