Tatang

(Sharing with you what I said during my dad's funeral. Today's his birthday, and I know, he is now celebrating there with my Manang Ela in heaven...I miss you, Tang.)

Parting is never a welcome word. Goodbye, seldom or never entertained.

But these words and these acts, we could not live without.

We may not welcome them. We may not entertain them.

Nonetheless, we have to face them, one way or another, at least once in our lives.

As I stand before you, we honor my father.

A father at the beginning, let me confessed I had not admired.

As a child, I never dreamed of emulating.

As a man, I never approved some of his ways.

But as a father, which by his death made me realized, he is one true and great dad.

We always hear how we, his children, are supposed to be so successful on our own. And to a father, to hear this line in his lifetime, I believe, brings immeasurable joy and pride. 

Tang, from your eldest daughter to your youngest son, I am so sure you had heard this line over and over again. By other people’s words, you indeed did alright.

Personally, however, the greatest honor and praise a man can hope for, is to have his own son acknowledged him to his own son, how great, how good and how he was able to raise his chidren the way it was supposed to be. 

And let me do this now.

Hedo, my son. Here before you lies a man you will not remember much in your life. A man, you may believe, had not and will never have any influence at all in how you will run your own. I declare it to you now, and I promise you, that whatever he taught me and how he brought  me up, will always be the standard, the guiding principle that we will have. For to me my son, I tell you, it is with so much pride, that I honor and present to you my father. A father, who without a degree, was incredibly able to bring seven of us all without wanting anything at all.  A father, who loved us with no boundaries. A father who was so loyal. A father who was always there for us. Please remember that.

Let me end  this by offering you this simple poem I made for you, Tang.

Not by lofty standards, as most people would usually put on a glow,

No shiny trophies nor medals of silver or gold to proudly show,

Not much worldly richness nor vast lands to boast,

Nor fast cars nor even ships parked at the coast.

But to all of us, you would always be more than great,

Letting you know of this, though may already too late.

For all the things you had done to us,  we did take at times for granted,

All we could remember is you lying there on your bed.

To all of us, you would always be the best,

A fulfilled provider, we now lay you to your rest,

Shouting to the world, that you did all you could,

In bringing and bearing us all, like a true Father should.

With that said, we bid goodbye to you, tatang.  we will always love you and will always remember you in our hearts.  Please say hello to Manang Ela for us in heaven.

Fears Fathers Never Admit

(Started this draft last April of 2009, supposedly in time for the fathers' day last year. Saw this again today, hoping to finish by tonight (June 19, 2010) in time for fathers' day tomorrow.

I dedicate this to my own tatang and to my son.)

From conception to the child's first glimpse of light, there is not only the connection physically through the umbilical chord between the child and mother, but also a closer bond of having the same heart beats and same blood flowing in their veins for the duration of the pregnancy. This could be the reason why children tend to be closer to the mother than the father, even as they count their own years.

Traditionally, particularly the Filipino way, the rearing of children is almost always left to the mother. The father, as taught by the Church, takes the passive role of a provider. While children grow, relationship with mothers also grow and interaction with the father seems to be more limited than ever. In more ways that admitted, children when asked will most always favor their mothers.

Does a father want to be a part of the lives of his children other than providing their needs? Doesn't a father want to have a more active role? Does he ever worry for his own kids? What does he think and feel along as his children grow to their own adulthood? Is he happy of where he is?

These are some questions which I think will be left forever unanswered in the open. These are things which we ask of our fathers but never really cared to hear the answers. Not that they answer them directly, but if observed, they have their own way of directing us to the answers that we want to hear. For as we all know, men, or fathers for this matter, and in contrast to their counterpart, are more reclusive. They keep their thoughts and emotions to themselves. They are of only few words.

Most try to remain silent. But for some who tried, most came out wanting.

Call this betrayal to fatherhood. But as a father myself, I will attempt on my own to bring those emotions to the open. I will try to unlock those thoughts and let it be known. Feeble as they may be, these are my thoughts. These are my own feelings of uncertainties seeing my own children grew. These are my fears.

Fathers can't say i love you.

We hate to admit but in the period when we were courting in our high school or college days, we could easily blur this it out to every pretty lady we found interesting enough. Probably, the supply is not that deep. I believe there is a certain point where a man, and as father, reached where he stop saying these three simple words. Can anyone recall the last time your dad said those words to you?

For me, (and this always brings tears, but never admitted openly) the part of a movie where a dad talks to his child, grown-up or just a kid, seeing clearly how hard it is on his part to say even a word, is always so touching for me. There is that moment of waiting, where he tries to start a conversation, he stutters, withdrawing a little bit, breathes deeper and tries again only to be able to whisper just a word or two. Hanging to that last moment, some did but most, not.

Fathers may not always be vocal about it but believe me, they do. I sometimes look at my children, especially in the early morning, sleeping with smiles on their faces, and feel something that I can never put into words. I sometimes look at them playing, and feel something that can never be described. Not a kiss nor a hug can quench it, it is more than just a bond. If I have to break my back just to see them happy and healthy, I will.

When is enough good enough?
A father can never have the ability to measure things like a mother has. She knows every sizes that fit a child, from shirts down to shoes without actually trying them on. One look at a child, and she knows what has to be done. Indeed, mothers know best.

Yes, we know how to estimate how much more mileage can a car travel by just looking at the gas gauge. Yes, we can measure the sizes of each square to its perfect fit. We know how many bytes in a megabytes to gigabytes. But when it comes to dealing with children, we can never fathom what is enough and when.

When I first carried a baby in my arms, I was worried sick whether I was holding him too tight for me suffocate him or too loose for me to drop him. There is no father who tried to put diapers on a baby on his first try without fumbling it. Did I fasten it enough so anything from there does not peek out? Did I pull it too tight that the baby would not be able to breathe? You may laugh at these very simple tasks, but hey they make us sweat and give us goosebumps trying to hide our fears while checking secretly if we did them right.

For me, this feeling of doubt holds us from doing more. And this is carried further as the kids grow, preventing fathers in building closer relationships with them. As a father, am I too strict that I curtail the independence and creativity rather than looking for what is best for the children? As a provider, am I providing them enough to enjoy life, but just enough so they do not forget that life is not so easy? We all wish that with these things should come a measuring stick. But I guess, that is really the challenge.

Well, we may have our fears. But leave these fears to us. We may not be able to say the love we have for our children as opened and often as you want us to be, we may not be as attached to them as you want it to be, but we do and we are. Just in our own way. In our own style.

Believe me, despite of these fears, there is nothing more satisfying to a father than seeing his children grew successful, happy and be christian parents of their own. For only then can we finally claimed that indeed, we have procreated with God.

Happy fathers' day to all the dads out there.