Keep yourself alive and happy; others may be looking up to you for inspiration.
Ever since, Papa has always expressed his fear about dying young. His mom died even before he graduated from college & as a kid I sensed he was scared I might experience the same kind of pain. He carried and hugged me a lot. He taught me how to sing, whistle, and laugh often. He quit smoking and forced me to eat foods rich in anti-oxidants to help prevent cancer. He allowed me to pretend I was his little assistant in his optical shop and was patient with me even when I learned how to bug him with crazy questions on the phone.
He also directed my boundless energy& my uncanny talent to pry into something positive; he encouraged me to study. He told me early on that we can't be together forever and education is the only legacy he can pass on effectively.
Because of this, I had different nightmares of him being taken away by Zuma, Valentina, and other evil creatures from Shake, Rattle, and Roll. In reality, it was his ambition to send us to better schools that took him away from us and made him work far far away until retirement.
He has just turned 60 last month. Instead of throwing a lavish party at Manila Hotel (he always joked about throwing fancy parties for himself but he never did), he declared he wouldn't come home this year. He said we can celebrate his retirement next year after my sister's college grad.
So we celebrated his birthday by watching "PAMANA", the first docu-musical about Ninoy and Cory's sacrifice for our country's democracy.
And I cried all throughout the play. I cried that Edgar had to leave his daughter Trina. I cried that he was not so successful here because of the economic and political climate after the People Power Revolution. I cried over the song about cassette tapes and endless letters. I cried when Trina had to defend her ideals and her decision to stay in spite of her father's request. I cried when Lola Azon died and joined Ninoy and Cory in democratic heaven.
I realized we can all be heroes even if we live for different things and are driven by various desires. Even the most cynical pessimists can help fund and fuel optimism in the country. Heroism is our birthright.
I miss Papa even if I'm now more used to him not being here. He's still my hero.
Ever since, Papa has always expressed his fear about dying young. His mom died even before he graduated from college & as a kid I sensed he was scared I might experience the same kind of pain. He carried and hugged me a lot. He taught me how to sing, whistle, and laugh often. He quit smoking and forced me to eat foods rich in anti-oxidants to help prevent cancer. He allowed me to pretend I was his little assistant in his optical shop and was patient with me even when I learned how to bug him with crazy questions on the phone.
He also directed my boundless energy& my uncanny talent to pry into something positive; he encouraged me to study. He told me early on that we can't be together forever and education is the only legacy he can pass on effectively.
Because of this, I had different nightmares of him being taken away by Zuma, Valentina, and other evil creatures from Shake, Rattle, and Roll. In reality, it was his ambition to send us to better schools that took him away from us and made him work far far away until retirement.
He has just turned 60 last month. Instead of throwing a lavish party at Manila Hotel (he always joked about throwing fancy parties for himself but he never did), he declared he wouldn't come home this year. He said we can celebrate his retirement next year after my sister's college grad.
So we celebrated his birthday by watching "PAMANA", the first docu-musical about Ninoy and Cory's sacrifice for our country's democracy.
And I cried all throughout the play. I cried that Edgar had to leave his daughter Trina. I cried that he was not so successful here because of the economic and political climate after the People Power Revolution. I cried over the song about cassette tapes and endless letters. I cried when Trina had to defend her ideals and her decision to stay in spite of her father's request. I cried when Lola Azon died and joined Ninoy and Cory in democratic heaven.
I realized we can all be heroes even if we live for different things and are driven by various desires. Even the most cynical pessimists can help fund and fuel optimism in the country. Heroism is our birthright.
I miss Papa even if I'm now more used to him not being here. He's still my hero.
