A Tribute to My Father

June 19, 2011 is Fathers’ Day!

On this occasion, my fond memories of my father bring back   to life  the years of his earthly existence and they are flashed before  me like that in a movie screen, and the  scenes appear so real. As they are played in my mind and I see them in my eyes,  I get  a   mixed feeling of melancholy and gratitude. Melancholy in the sense that I miss him and this thoughtful and gentle sadness is mixed with regret that he did not live longer than 67 years. How I wished he lived until this day as I personally would have wanted to see him spend his life after 60  free from physical toiling and in total  relaxation and enjoyment. But that is not how God had planned it to be and He called him back may be because He needs a  creative,  exacting,  and professional handyman in heaven.  

Gratitude is what I owe to God for giving us our father who did what he could to provide for us without complaining at all no matter how physiologically tiring it must have been for him to juggle carpentry and joinery, blacksmithing, farming, and family life. He is a man of few words and I can only surmise what must have been in his thoughts in those moments when I saw him physiologically dreary and exasperated.  The moments I would hear him talk a lot were at nighttime when he was tipsy with ‘tuba’, and somehow I wished then that nighttime would come so I could have a glimpse of his thoughts and feelings about ‘life’.   He is one person who would internalize his thoughts and feelings rather than blurt them out as he is more introverted, and this is one trait I got from him.  If there is one striking character in him that I suppose all of us children were able to imbibe, it is being a ‘homebuddy’. This trait has been innate in each one of us that it manifests itself automatically in our behavior.  My father would always make it a point that his drinking buddies would go to our house and not the other way around. He was uncompromising in this.  In those rare moments he had to go out with his drinking buddies, he would make it a point to come back within the shortest time interval possible. No one could prevent him from being away from home longer than he thought would be needed.  Despite the lure of going out with friends to drink after work especially during payday, he was consistent in politely saying ‘no’.  The pull of the home was always more powerful than the pull of  leisure time with buddies. To him, he would rather spend the money for family needs than for leisurely pursuits.

There are too  many good things that can be mentioned about my father that they will make for a good biography. But on this special occasion, I would like to bring to the surface those that I can recall at the moment as my special tribute to the man who I owe my life to and the man that taught me through his own unique and quiet ways what ‘dignity of labor’ is and should be.

I love you and I sorely miss you Tatay!

Amang: My Father Whom God Has Blessed Me With

In my previous blogs, I have already shared some of my significant moments with my father. We call him Amang in my country the Philippines.

My Amang grew up from a very poor family. In fact, he only reached Grade 3 and he was not able to learn how to read and write. He worked as a janitor in a factory near our house. I remember during election time, I would accompany him to the voting precinct to guide him and give him instructions on what to do. When I was an elementary student, he would ask me to accompany him to watch the baseball game of my eldest brother to be his “tourist guide.” I would read for him the signboard on the jeepney which we have to take going to the venue. This incident strongly motivated me to study hard and make my father feel proud that even if he was illiterate he was blessed with an educated son. Thus, I tried my best to excel in my academics.

My Amang may not fully know the importance of education and the accomplishments I have earned academically but I have realized that he was one of the reasons why I strove hard to earn the highest possible academic degree. When I invited him for my masteral degree graduation, he replied by saying, “Why do I have to attend, you are not going to graduate with honors anyway?” Honestly, I tried my very best to graduate with honors. I was a consistent academic scholar and academic excellence awardee until I received a grade in my very last subject which disqualified me to earn the distinction. When I heard that from my Amang, honestly, I did not feel bad because I know that someday I will reap the fruits of my labor. Now, I have already realized the reason why I did not graduate with honors, God wanted me to learn and possess the most important human and holy virtue, humility.

Since Amang was addicted to alcohol and nicotine, he would always be with his friends drinking alcohol practically everyday. He would spend more time with them and would only go home when he will eat, sleep, watch television, and will do his personal routine. I would not deny that I have cursed my Amang for hurting everyone in the family both physically, psychologically, and emotionally especially my Inang.

If you ask me if I love Amang, with all humility my answer is YES! As I grow older, I have realized that we learn more from our painful and sad experiences in life. It may sound crazy but I have to thank my Amang for that. He has taught me a lot of good values from those painful moments and those are to be forgiving, accepting, understanding, and loving as a son and as a Christian.

My Amang may have not been an ideal father but I still consider him as a loving and caring father. When I was 4 years old, he brought me to a perya (carnival) for a ride in a ferris wheel. He was drunk then and I remember him telling me, “Anak pasensya ka na, iyan lang ang kaya ng Amang mo.” (Son, I am very sorry because your father can only give you this much.) I will never forget those words of Amang which made me realize that no matter how much Amang wanted to show his love to me and my siblings, he could only do as much. I know in my heart the reason why Amang uttered those words. It has something to do with his personal history from the day he was born until the time he became my father.

After 5 years of working in Indonesia, I went back home to the Philippines. It was my constant hope and prayer then, only to realize that I will take care of Amang on his remaining months. It was the most unforgettable, loving, and nurturing moments I had with Amang. Through him, I was able to show and learn all the loving values that a son could give to his father.

One day when we rushed him to the hospital, I thought that it was his time to go. By the grace of God, he still made it on that day. I whispered to him, “Amang, I am very thankful to the Lord because you are still here with me.” He told me not to confine him anymore because he feels very sorry that I have to spend my hard earned money from working abroad. I don’t mind if I have to use up every single peso I have saved if that will prolong his life with the hope that he will be totally healed from his sickness.

Through all the pain, sacrifice, service, joy, happiness, and loving moments I had with Amang, I have come to realize that no matter what I have been through with him, he is my Amang whom God has blessed me with.

I misss you very much Amang and I hope and pray to God to see you again and celebrate Father's Day in heaven. Happy Father's Day Amang and I love you very much.

Inang: My Loving and Faithful Mother

22 July 1923 was the day when Consorcia S. Maristanez was born. She was the eldest of three female siblings. She grew up from a poor family. She wanted to study but her parents cannot afford to send her to school. When she lost her parents, she lived with her uncle. She expressed her desire to study but she was ignored.

Growing up, she experienced a lot of pain, suffering, deprivation, and humiliation. She was treated like a domestic helper by her uncle. One day, she was crying like a child because she wanted something but they care less for her. She locked up herself in a little room full of rice sacks and she held herself up for long hours despite the extreme heat because of self pity and embarrassment. While she was eating, the wife of her uncle would fiercely look at her like she wanted to devour her. Helpless as she was, she continued eating while tears were effortlessly running down from her eyes. Because of the malevolent treatment she received from them, she begged for money like a mendicant on the street just to provide for her personal needs.

If she was only given a chance to study, she would have become one if not the most intelligent student in her class. She only finished Grade 3 but she was very good in numbers and at the same time so confident and smart to speak English. She would not feel shy to talk to anyone regardless of their status in life. She would usually utter the words, “How I wish I could have finished my studies and I would definitely have done well in school.” With her unfulfilled dreams, she did everything as a mother to provide for her seven children and she was able to send them all to school from her meager earning as balut (egg) vendor. All her children finished their studies through her hardwork, patience and, perseverance. She was able to prove herself that she is indeed an intelligent person because of what she accomplished for her children.

Loving and faithful as she was, she trusted her relatives that they would give her fair share of an ancestral land where she grew up and raised up her children since the beginning. However, for some clandestine reason, she was again deprived of her legal right. She begged to her relatives but they were just too greedy and selfish to listen to her humble request. Despite of it, she still lifted up everything to God and prayed for her relatives. She was able to do it even though she was hurting and grieving.

She may have lived from a very poor family but her values as a human being was far beyond compare because she never allowed herself to hate and curse the people who deprived her of what was due her. She is one of the most loving, forgiving, accepting, and God-loving mother in the world.

Inang, I tried my best to be a good son because of you and I am trying hard to be a kind brother and person because of everything that you have taught me. I terribly miss your presence and there is no single day that I think of you and pray for you. Honestly, I don’t know anymore the feeling of celebrating Mother’s Day because you are not with me anymore. How can I greet you and give you my sweetest hugs and kisses if you are not here with me.

Inang, because of your personal history I realized and learned a lot of good things in life. I will always remember, treasure, and try to live by it as I continue to live a good life. One thing you always tell me is to take care of my relationship with people. I believe that I am doing that especially now that I live away from my siblings in the Philippines. Also, I remember and miss the time we would pray the rosary together at 3:00 o’clock in the morning. You never get tired of doing it everyday.

Inang, I know God has read my blog about you. I beg of Him to have mercy and grant my only request. And that is to see you one day in heaven and still feel your genuine love and affection as I sing you songs which we would usually do at home.

Inang, I still grieve and even crying right now while writing this blog because I miss you more than heart and mind can comprehend. You don’t have any idea at all how it feels to lose you and see you passed away last 27 July 2010. I hope that you would visit me even in my dreams. I am sorry if I have not been kind to you all the time as your son. Since the day I was born, I knew that you are my inspiration. But sometimes I feel that life is meaningless because you are not here anymore.

Inang, I know that you are now celebrating this especial day with God, Mama Mary, Lola Ana, and all the angels and saints in heaven. Please send my warmest regards to all of them.

Inang, I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH AND I WILL NEVER EVER FORGET YOU. You will always be in my mind and in my heart until the last day of my life. See you again Inang.

“The 5th Commandment: Honor your father and your mother.”

Today, March 24, 2011 is the 1st year death anniversary of my Amang (father). Days are very fast and I can’t imagine that it’s been a year now since my Amang passed away.


As I shared in my previous blog, my Amang died because of emphyzema, a lung disease due to excessive smoking. Added to that, my Amang was also an alcoholic. But according to my Inang (mother), he was not smoking nor drinking alcohol until he was influenced by his friends.


During my younger years, I had a lot of issues with my Amang. He is one father that many wouldn’t want to have. I remember the time when he embarrassed me in front of his friends. He was saying hurting words to me and I was just crying and gasping for breath as a child. I was 10 years old then when that incident happened. Also, I vividly recall the many times he physically hurt me for no good reason at all. He was sleeping one time and I accidentally hit his leg. He got mad and just hit me on the head. I felt very dizzy and I thought I will collapse at that time. He even broke a wooden hanger on my body and threw me off into a wooden cabinet like a stray cat. I even witnessed my Amang slapping the face of my Inang and cursing her without any respect at all. When I graduated from my masteral degree, I invited him to attend the commencement exercise. He replied by saying, “You are not graduating with honors so why do I have to attend!” Still, he attended my graduation. I may have recalled these unpleasant moments I had with my Amang but these were all in the past now.

I also have good memories of my Amang. He taught me the Kundiman song (Filipino old song) which I rendered in a singing competition where he watched me perform. During family gathering and reunion, he would try to entertain us by his out of this world dance move. When I was already working, he would carry me at his back like a young kid because the way going to our house was flooded with water and he would not mind carrying my weight. Likewise, he would clean up the flood water from our house and would not complain even if he gets tired from repeatedly doing the same thing. I also remember the time that I needed money, he borrowed from a friend and pledged as payment the retirement benefit he would receive from the factory where he worked as a janitor. Most especially, I will never ever forget the time he would sip out the colds from my nose and he would spit it out from his mouth without any disgust at all.


When Amang started to feel weak, he stopped smoking and drinking. He has changed a lot especially the way he treated us. I was given a chance to take care of my Amang during his moment of pain and suffering. I promised myself that I will give the best for my Amang and Inang while they are still alive. I had a chance to bring him to Boracay, a holiday destination in the Philippines. It was his very first time to ride in an airplane at the age of 75. I felt very happy being with my Amang but his body at that time was not that strong anymore for him to enjoy our trip.


During the time that I was taking care of him, I was able to express to him my issues. He can’t remember it anymore. He even said that he was just disciplining me and the rest of my siblings. While I was opening my heart to my Amang, I don’t feel any pain but I felt sad because we could have had more happy time together than sad and painful moments.


On his last day, he was brought in to the Intensive Care Unit (ICU). I was just at the window staring at my Amang because I cannot bear the sight of losing him. I have loved and still love my Amang so much despite and inspite of his human frailties. I will never ever forget the time he brought me to a perya (carnival) while he put the tickets around his neck and said, “My son please forgive me if Amang can only give you as much.” Up to this time, that moment was still very vivid in my mind. Thus, I fully understood and eventually accepted my Amang as my father.


Now that he is gone, I miss him very much and I am longing to be with him again someday. My Amang may not have been an ideal father but I know that he is the father that God has given me. I believe that he was given to me by God for a good reason. God wanted me to become a better son, sibling, and a loving person to people around me.


The 5th Commandment: Honor your father and your mother, period. Regardless of the kind of father and mother that we have, we still have to accept and love them unconditionally because they are the parents that God has given us.


I MISS YOU AND I LOVE YOU AMANG!

My Brother Is Not A Pig!

I grew up in a family where everyone was present during mealtime. I have four big brothers as in literally big and two beautiful sisters. Well, that’s according to the recent survey conducted by Pulse Asia with only two respondents, my two sisters! Also present were the King (my father) and Queen (my mother) of our family with our uncle who was like a father to us. Every meal was like a big feast because eleven people sit and share in a big rectangular table.

During mealtime, a strange phenomenon usually happens that cannot be explained by anyone and even science would have a hard time digging facts about it. My eldest sister being very responsible, would divide and distribute the viand equally among our siblings. I remember vividly that our viand then was 'pritong galunggong' (fried mackerel fish). I would love to eat it with my rice swimming in water and rock salt.

Then, the moment of truth had to come out. When my sister was giving our share of the fish, she noticed that one piece was missing. She threatened all of us that if the guilty would not confess of the crime, she would punish all of us. Because my sister was like incredible hulk the female version, when she got angry, we were afraid of the consequence that we would receive from her. Yet despite this, nobody admitted that time. Until finally, my sister noticed the rice of my brother on his plate was shaped like Mt. Everest. My sister got suspicious and she slowly dug a hole from the surface of my brother’s rice. Aha! We saw the head of the fish as if wanting to escape from Alcatraz. My brother was caught hiding the fish so that he could get another one. Instead of blaming our brother, we all laughed and teased him for his work of art. Hehehehe! The mystery was solved and just like in any other court hearing, case closed.

While we were enjoying the taste of our humble but luscious food, my eldest brother who eats with a lot of enthusiasm and gusto would get a big chunk of rice like a construction worker spading huge bulk of sand, and slowly chew and swallow the gargantuan amount of rice and fried fish from his big hand. When he chewed, his face would turn elastic as if he was blowing a bazooka bubble gum. His two cheeks would bloat like a balloon and his face would change its appearance as if he underwent a face lift. We would control our laughter because we were afraid that our eldest brother might get embarrassed and eventually scold us.

As we continued with our meal, we were telling funny stories with each other. I found an opportunity to share with them my experience about my youngest brother. My brother was begging not to continue with the story but I believed that it was worth sharing after all. Every time we were in a jeepney going to school, my youngest brother had the habit of sleeping. One time, he fell asleep while his hands were hanging on the bar of the jeep. I was seated beside him and I was appalled to see that my brother was creating his own Guinness book of world record. I saw his saliva slowly falling from his mouth like a spider weaving its web. I was taken aghast by the sight that I saw. I gently woke up my brother so that no one would notice him and handed him my handkerchief. Wow! I didn’t know if I would deny him three times or disown him at that moment. Hehehe!
When it was my turn to be fried on the hot plate, my youngest brother was so fast in taking vengeance on me. He shared the time when we both didn’t have enough money to pay for our jeepney fare; I was like a coach telling him the game plan that we would do to be freed from shame and embarrassment. I told my youngest brother that the time we needed to go down from the jeep, I would count one, two, three, and we would jump and run as fast as we could. I told him that the key word to realize our game plan was timing. My siblings were all laughing hearing the story but I knew what I did was totally wrong. Honestly, I have already confessed it and never do it again.

As I reminisce all these funny and crazy moments I had with my siblings, I was reminded of this very popular line in the movie of the great Filipino Superstar, Nora Aunor, "My brother is not a pig!" I can’t help but laugh not because I agree that my brothers are a pig. It has become a common joke for many and I would remember uttering these words to them.

Wait, my brothers are not pigs! They are human beings like us! They are the happiest people I have in my life. Every time we are together, we always share each others laughter and happiness. We eat until the last grain of rice is finished, we sing songs as if we were the next contestants in Americal Idol, we shake our bellies with all the curves and waves, we banter with each other, watch movies ,and go places especially to Tagaytay, which is our favorite spot. In fact, we had our first spiritual recollection as siblings in that heavenly place facilitated by my youngest brother who is an ex-convict. Oopps, I mean ex-seminarian. Some of my friends envy me because we text and say 'I love you!' with each other without inhibition.I am thankful to God for giving me such happy and loving brothers and sisters. We are not perfect as siblings because we also have our own share of frailties, animosity, issues and fights, but we try our best to support, care, understand, forgive, and love each other especially now that our parents are gone.
If you think that my brothers are pigs, well, I would agree to a certain extent because they are big in size like a pig but they are the most amiable toy pig that one would want to have. Hehehe!

I LOVE YOU BROS!

Valentine for Expats

While there have been inconclusive and some conflicting  accounts relevant to the genesis of  Valentine’s Day,  this has never deterred people from across the globe to celebrate it every  February 14.  The most commonly-held rationale for its  observance is  historical-religious in nature   as it falls  on the same day as the Feast Day of St. Valentine,  who was a holy priest in Rome and martyrd for his Christian faith during the reign of Cladius II (268-270 AD).  One legend says, while awaiting his execution, Valentinus or Fr. Valentine  restored the sight of his jailer's blind daughter. Another legend says, on the eve of his death, he penned a farewell note to the jailer's daughter, signing it, "From your Valentine." The  site www.catholic.org  cites that St. Valentine was beheaded on February 14, about the year 270. He is the Patron Saint of affianced couples, bee keepers, engaged couples, epilepsy, fainting, greetings, happy marriages, love, lovers, plague, travelers, young people. He is represented in pictures with birds and roses. However, there are two other Christian saints named Valentine whose feast day falls on Feb 14.  In  1969, Pope Paul VI dropped the feast day from the Roman Catholic calendar, although its religious observance is still permitted.

Its romantic elements began to take shape much later and only in the  14^th century and since then,  Valentine is an occasion that is  more construed in a romantic than religious or spiritual  sense. 

Since I became an expat 7 years ago, there is this curiosity that has been resonating at the back of my mind about the meaning of Valentine to expats and how they celebrate it.  As would be expected,  gauging from the responses I gathered from the majority of expats I asked, their most immediate  attribution to the occasion is romantic in nature.

Here are some notable responses I got from them:

·         From a long lost friend that I found… just a call overseas

·         If you have LOVE, you don’t need to have anything else. If you don’t have LOVE, it does not matter much what else you have.

One person I asked (a friend)  said he will celebrate it exclusively with his wife and  most likely via a night out. When I asked him why his son would be  excluded from the celebration, he said that he wanted the special and very rare moment to be exclusively for him and his wife so as not to dilute  its romantic sense.

Another person (a lady friend) who is momentarily single  said that she would spend it at home chatting with her family, hoping that they would still be awake on the night of Valentine’s Day.  She added that even when she still had a boyfriend, there was no special celebration during Valentine’s Day as every day, they would watch movies, eat either before or after the movie, so there was nothing more special to do on other occasions. It was close to saying that to her, every day can be a special hearts’ day if we want to. 

One lady acquaintance I know  who is single intends to invite her other lady single friends for a fabulous dine out on Valentine’s night.

A married male expat whose wife and family are in the Philippines said that he will spend it along with his male flatmates eating, drinking, and singing videoke in their flat and calling his loved ones back home during the day itself.

I heard someone jokingly saying that he would find another expat (a female expat) who may be as lonely as he would be on Valentine’s day to date out.  It was intended as a joke but I also know that some would really do this.  This seemingly is one of the ramifications of the romantic associations that have been attached to what used to be a purely religious observance.

Of the many responses I got, I would like to highlight this one owing to its quite seemingly different perspective. It is like a breath of cold fresh air during  the intense heat of summer.

Valentine for me denotes Love. A love for one-self or self-love. What could be more meaningful for all God’s creation than to realize that they are beings of love. Who else can love you unconditionally than you? Once you understand that you are a being of Love and able to understand and experience the unconditional love from within, that is the time when you can share that same feeling with other beings around you, your community, your family, your spouse or partner.  So how do I celebrate it? I celebrate it everyday by looking at the mirror and telling myself ‘I love you’. I celebrate it by expressing that inner love towards others. One thing is for certain, I don’t strive to look for  love from others because for me, that is looking for love in all the wrong places. I look for Love from within, from my inner god and from that perspective,  I express that love toward others.

My earliest recollection of the inculcation of this celebration to my consciousness was in Grade 1 at age 5.  We were asked to make Valentine cards for our parents, siblings, teachers, and friends in school, the very people we love and care for as children. I also remember our class being taught this song:

Dearest child believe me you are truly my friend

So today with gladness to you will I send

Just a sign of friendship from this heart of mine

That will tell you in words ‘You are my Valentine’.

This will it say

Mother’s heart is true

And never will change

The love she gives you.

This song imprinted in me an indelible essence of Valentine  that still holds true today. As an expat physically away from my family, I feel quite sad, yet I suppose that nothing would dissuade me from expressing my love, affection, and gratitude to my Mother and my family through the varied means available to us right now, not just on Valentine’s Day but every day.

a fast and easy way to know which months of the year have 30 days

Now that it is the month February, I would remember what once my father taught me when I asked him one night, while doing my assignment, what months of the year would have 30 days. This is the tip that he gave me and he told me to memorize it as he did by heart. Here it goes:

30 days of September, April, June, & November, except for February that has 28 days and 29 in a leap year.

If my memory serves me right, he bragged that they were taught to memorize it when they were in Grade 1. He was a product of the American education system that required English as a medium of instruction even in grade school. Hence, I would hear him speak in English most especially during night time once the effect of liquor has gotten into his system.

I miss my father. Thanks for the tip Tatay!