Father's Day No More

Today is Fathers Day. It would have been great pleasure and joy for me to greet my papa. However, I could not for he has left this ( sometimes ) cruel world for a better place. I could have opted to greet my father-in-law but he is in a better place too. Well, the next best person to greet is the father of my children ( sorry but my mind refuses to acknowledge the phrase my husband). But how could I happily greet him "Happy Fathers Day" when he told me yesterday that he has no obligation what-so-ever to help me buy my medications? Yes. I was forced to ask for monetary help for I ran short of cash. My van needed new disc brakes, the fence needed mending - thanks to the mango tree that fell on the fence yet was not righted for he refused to cut the fallen part- , the galvanized iron roof is rusting and needed replacement, my son needed new eye glasses - a lot of expenses in a week that I paid for. With no other extra income in the offing (not much opps too since google took my PR3 and have not returned it even as I type)- I was strapped for cash.

Top cut a long story shorter, my girls said they will shoulder my medications. I hate to ask money from them since they're not earning big bucks yet. What puzzles them though is the fact that the only one asking for allowance from Mr. No Obligation is my son. That alone saves their father a whooping 24,000 PHP a month. Where's the freaking extra money?! So! No sob story here - just the same recurring theme told in a different angle and circumstance.

In times like this, I sincerely miss my father as I have no one to act as my knight in shining armor. All my uncles on mama's and papa's side are all gone too...oh! except for an eccentric uncle on papa's side who is childless anyway. I have no other sibling but a younger brother who lives with his family in NJ. So, to you my brother, and to all deserving fathers out there... Happy Fathers Day!

P.S.
You might want to earn extra cash through this link. You'd be helping me earn extra cash too.

A Father's Love

I knew that there was something special today, July 19. I knew that it was my father-in-law's birthday. He passed away some seven years ago but my in-laws insist on celebrating it anyway. As I was blog hopping this morning, I read Juliana's post about her tatang. Truly, what she said about her father touched me.

I went about my usual Saturday errands when it suddenly hit me. July 19 here is July 18 in the US. Juliana's tatang died on the exact same day as my papa. What a coincidence I said to myself, then I cried. I so miss my papa, imperfect as he was. But I cried more for other fathers out there whose children will have nothing to say or reminisce about when they leave the world.

I stumbled on this video. It is a story of a father's undying and unconditional love for his son. The son told his dad that he wants to join a 5 K run. So they did. Then the son and father gradually progressed to 10K, 26K, 42K then ultimately the nightmare of all triathletes, the Ironman Triathlon. No big deal you might say. Great father-son bonding. Please watch it and be touched.

My Papa

MY father was big great throb in my neck when I was growing up. He was dreadfully strict disciplinarian who whacks my butt with his leather belt every time I do things contrary to his likes. That was often! He firmly believed in the Biblical saying “spare the rod and spoil the child.”

My father’s usual mantra was “Have you studied your lesson?” To which I would reply “But its summer vacation.” (I would just like the readers to note that back in the late 60’s there were no summer academic programs for kids. Once you “do” summer, that means you failed your subject.) “I don’t care! Read books! There’s a whole set of Britannica on the bookshelves” my father will counter.

Who the heck reads encyclopedia. So what I do was go to Ka Seto, the local Tagalog comics vendor, and rent comics with such titles as Pioneer, Hiwaga, Aliwan, Wakasan, Tagalog Klasiks, etc.. Of course my father would eventually catch me reading the comics and that would bring on another butt-date with his leather belt.

Papa was always pushing my brother and me to do things way beyond our imagined capabilities. He used to say that we were so privileged because we did not have to walk to get to school nor work to support our studies. I was 9 years old, my brother 8.

When I reached puberty my father became more stern and severe. I was not allowed to go to parties or soirees or outings or any activity that could make me enjoy my teens. No suitors. No boyfriends. No dates. As far as my father knew, I was following his rules. Boy, was he totally wrong.

I was so rebellious and hard-headed that my clashes with my father became regular household disturbances. In this corner: my 2 maiden aunts and me. In that corner: my father and his ideals. My mom was usually in the center. If my 2 maiden aunts were not enough to convince my father to give me permission to whatever or wherever, my mom’s other sister will be called. Ah, this aunt of mine was the best. The moment my father sees her, the balance tips over my side.

When I had my debut, I was not permitted to stay through the end. It was Martial Law and overnight parties were the protocol due to curfew. It was the 70’s and skirts were super-duper short. I was to wear shorts or half-slips under my skirt.

My father was proud of me. He used to bring over friends and commanded me to play-the-piano-while-i-sing-and-dance-and-eat-fire-while-cartwheeling-my- other- hand- playing the banduria. I was always pitted against my cousins who were years older that I was. I was supposed to get high grades and be a doctor some day. My father expected so much from me and of me.

I did not want to be a doctor. I wanted to be a musician! An artist! A performer! I fought real hard to win this bout and I did. Did I?

Many years later, I wished I listened to my father’s advice. If I did, I would be a doctor now. But hey, being an architect is not so bad. What really saddens me is the fact that my father never achieved his dream of having a doctor in the family. He died on July 18, 2000, the year my eldest child and his first granddaughter entered medical school.

My father taught me the virtues of discipline. He instilled in me a sense of responsibility. He rammed in me the importance of education. We shared the same passion in music for he was a very accomplished banduria player. My father made me realize that I can be whatever I want to be.

My father was Dr. Guillermo B. Lengson. He was a husband, a father, a dentist, a Karate guru, a musician, a mechanic, an electrician, a son and a grandfather. He would have been 77 today.

I miss you papa.