Father's day is just around the corner, let me laud about my father first. Reynaldo or Rey to his friends and Rene to his close relatives; he could be turning 59 next month had he lived past 45 years. Let's not veer into that depressing part, because I wouldn't be able to finish this thing if we go there.
You can say that I'm a Daddy's girl for the first 12 years of my young life; I had to relinquish the title when my mom gave birth to another girl in the family. Nevertheless, those years had been memorable even after his eyes had suddenly turned towards my younger sister – more wonderful for me as I was entering my teen years then.
I am my father's daughter (I hope you get what I mean). I am his metaphor; we had so such in common. We don't talk too much and hardly shows too much emotion or affection. He loves to collect books – it was his collection that filled our library then. We share the joy of solving mathematical problems. When I was in school, for problems in Math and Science I go to him; for English and Social Studies, it was my Mom; and for Filipino, I am left at my own devises (now you know why I'm not that good). I remember when I was on my fourth-year in high school there was this problem in Physics that I had some trouble solving, I went to my Dad and asked him to check if I got it right. He said my answer was right but it wasn't the correct way to go about it. We argued on that one really loudly (Mom even went over to see what we're doing), I insisted that my method works and he wouldn't accept it. We never got to resolve it though, because lunchtime is over and he had to back to work and I had to go back to school. When I got home, he asked how my assignment was, I said I didn't got the point because both of our methods were wrong. We laughed at it and solved it together the right way; later, he said he would have thought of that one, had I not insisted my way.
It was his role to always come on stage and pin my medal whenever the school is over and it's time for the recognition day; he missed when I was in Grade Three because my grades slipped and I only got the third honors – maybe, that sort of gave me some warnings. The biggest disappointment was on my first-year in high school because I didn't even get on the honor roll (only three of them got in). I couldn't even go home that day and tell my Dad that he won't be pinning any medal on me that year. I was raking my head on the reasons I could give to his WHYs – I was too caught up with the fun of being in high school; my teachers aren't that great (they're boring); my classmates had irked the teachers and I was included in their sweeping of giving low grades; I find the lessons really hard (absolutely not); I skipped classes because of extra-curricular activities (well, yes but not that often). He didn't ask me any though, I wondered why.
He'd bring me to discos, isn't he cool? Our family would sometimes go out and spend the night in pubs; I would dance with him, my brother with my Mom. When I was in high school he'd pass by the pub my friends were in and check if it’s time for me to go, if I say I want to stay, he'd go off and tell me that he'll swing by after two hours – there's no such thing as a handphone back then and pagers we're only used by 'really important' people.
My mom was the one who took up the disciplinarian job between them, so when it was my Dad who would tell us to lean forward and prepare for some smacking in the butt, you'd know that we really did the most terrible thing. Luckily, I already left for college when he got that very long stingray's tail (buntot ng pagi).
One time, when I was in high school (I think around third year) he saw me coloring one of my projects, he said maybe I should take up Fine Arts in college because he found the coconut tree I was working on to be good – I didn't took him seriously, because I just traced that drawing somewhere. That was the only time he suggested on what course I should take up when I get to college. He, as well as my Mom, never imposed any course or career on me; maybe because they trusted me too well that I would make the best decision on that part, but he was the one who got my application form for DLSU when he went to Manila for one of his regional meetings.
We're almost on my college years, I'll tell you that story on my next post.
No comments:
Post a Comment