I lost my Papa in 1999.
I had very little time with him (I was 13 when he passed away), but I appreciate every bit I can remember.
I remember him as a strong figure in our home.
He was the big guy in shorts, a plain white shirt, and his Beachwalk slippers.
He was the family’s designated driver.
He’d wake up early to take Mama to our store at the city market.
He let Mama run the business, but he was always there to back her up.
He drove me and Ate to school and picked us up when needed,
especially when Ate had evening classes.
He fixed things around the house, keeping the essentials up and running: electricity, water, etc.
I vaguely remember that a few days before he died, he fixed the mirror in our bathroom,
as though making sure things were in place before leaving.
Papa was my cinema buddy.
Back when the only way to watch a movie was in an actual cinema,
it was often the two of us who went together.
One of my fondest memories of him is that he watched Titanic with me, 13 or 30 times.
I keep forgetting the exact number because we watched it so many times.
Yes, in the cinema, where we had to line up for tickets.
At that time, when a blockbuster was showing, the lines were always massive.
He enjoyed watching movies, especially Pinoy films.
He loved renting Betamax tapes, and later on, VHS.
I think I take after his love for watching (Pinoy) movies.
I was telling Neithan I want to get cable at Emii so I can watch Cinema One. :-))
His presence meant protection and security.
He was an emblem of discipline.
You know how parents used to whip their kids with belts to discipline them?
He was that guy.
Ate got the belt more than I did. :-))
Not because I wasn’t doing anything “bad” or anything that pissed him off,
but maybe because I was seven years younger.
He might have treated me a little more gently.
Also, he was already gone by the time I hit the peak of my rebel days. :-))
It’s Father’s Day today.
These days, I often see grand and beautiful tributes to mothers on Mother’s Day, and rightly so.
But I notice that Father’s Day doesn’t always get the same weight of treatment.
Perhaps because society celebrates mothers as nurturers and emotional anchors,
a core figure in the home.
But I think this sometimes sidelines the quiet, steady,
and often less verbal kind of love that fathers give.
They provide, protect, fix what’s broken.
They show up in ways that aren’t always about long talks,
mushy conversations, or warm hugs.
And it seems they don’t get a lot of appreciation.
I think the rise of feminism has helped amplify the recognition of mothers’ labor.
But I also think this sometimes coexists with a silence around the efforts and sacrifices many fathers make,
especially in a role where they’re expected to be stoic and self-sacrificing.
Families are not the same.
Neithan and I have different stories and experiences about our fathers.
But for those who have good fathers, however good looks for you,
show appreciation for them while you still can.
Living with Neithan has taught me that men carry quiet struggles, lots of them.
And they often do not bring them up in conversation,
because they think they have to stay steadfast and stoic to keep order in the home.
But they are doing work.
Often invisible work that we women can almost always be too blind to see,
because we are led by emotion more than thoughtful observation.
Tell them thank you.
Show appreciation for the life they are building and constantly protecting for you.
While you still can.
Pa, thank you.
I was too young to know what I know now.
But thank you.
Thank you for the quiet strength.
For the memories I remember, and the ones I don’t.
I think about you, and I carry you with me every day.
Neithan, you’re not a dad, but you are our provider and the main pillar of this home.
Thank you.
For Emii, Piwan, and Casper.
For all the coffee dates.
For finding ways to keep us alive, especially during the big shift in our life.
For accepting the simple but difficult truth that money is important.
For acquiring the resources that help turn the life in our heads into reality.
For the unending pursuit of the difficult but good life.
For me, for us, and for our future.
Thank you, for everything.
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads who love in ways the world doesn’t always know how to appreciate and celebrate. 🌻