Just when I thought that I’m already emotionally dead inside after a series of loss (Mom passed on only 4 months ago followed by my college best friend Victor a couple of months after and Uncles Horace and Eulie, Auntie Inday, and Manong Tweet a few months earlier), now the painful news of your passing. This caught me by surprise even though that you have been in the hospital for more than 5 weeks already. Though the recovery was slow due to pneumonia that doesn’t seem to go away in spite of several medical procedures and different types of antibiotic (your treatment probably has covered half of the taxonomy for antibiotics), I was still hopeful that you would be weaned off the ventilator and would be able to breathe on your own and speak and eventually be discharged and sent home given that your condition has been stable and improving. Never have I thought that it will end this way. Or I may have just kept my hopes too high. I was so wrong, both on you recovering and me being dead inside.

So forgive me for crying a river these past couple of days (at least I’m not dead inside yet). I know that you always wanted us to be strong and brave, but challenging pain is one battle I can’t talk my way out or win head on. I will surely lose. So I’ll give in to the grief and the sorrow for now, let both take over me, and then grow from there. But this won’t stop me from celebrating you, now that you have joined Mom and my brother in the afterlife. I know you love Mom and my brother so much, and you love us here in this life so not to burden us any further, that you probably thought it’s best this way.

I was thinking how to celebrate you and realized that I honestly have no idea of “you”. Even as a child, you have always been an enigma to me. I don’t have much when it comes to who you are outside of our family, your life before Mom, your early years, and your side of the family. Growing up, I always asked you why we haven’t had family trips to your hometown to meet our relatives there. All I know is that you have a sister (and our cousins) and that you’re the second family of your dad. On hindsight, I would have asked you for a sit-down interview (which I discovered my knack for it a while back, where people reveal themselves to me even with indirect questions or offering information without me asking) to talk about your early life and the life you had outside of the family.

This is a far cry from Mom’s side of the family, who we know most of and are so out there, some being celebrated with pride. I even mentioned this a few years back to a few of my closest and trusted confidante (without bragging) that if these were Roman times, Mom’s side of the family would be a very powerful clan, with leading personalities in the Church, Senate, and Army who can influence Julius Caesar and change the course of history. Though I was able to get a glimpse of your past life when I visited your hometown for the first time and on my own, I still got nothing much from a few of your relatives except that you’re a descendant of the first American teacher (principal) that landed in our shores (that probably explains how we got our Native American genes, among others), that you left home early to live independently, that you have survived a shipwreck in your youth, and that you’re a distant relative of a popular international fashion designer (I’m happy to learn this one as this surely balanced out Mom’s politically and religiously charged side of the family).

It dawned on me that the only way to celebrate “you” is thru me, right thru my eyes. How you made an impact in my life. I see you as a quiet, unassuming Dad, a man of few words and someone who is not that expressive of his emotions and rarely affectionate (which sometimes can come off as cold), and who can be very extreme. You are the epitome of the saying “silent water runs deep.” Though Mom is, hands down, the disciplinarian in the family, your form of discipline, for lack of better word, is harsher. I can’t fault you for that knowing that you came from a generation where such form of discipline is tolerated, pretty much an accepted norm. I also knew at a young age that I wasn’t your favorite, where you always see my older and younger brothers as smarter and have more potential to succeed in life (or maybe I was just suffering from the middle brother syndrome). Just like middle child syndrome, I was constantly seeking your attention and approval, where I have to work twice as hard to get a little of the same.

I can’t deny though that you’re a good provider. Early on you instilled in us that we are not rich but we had enough. Even after graduation, you paid for my living expenses while reviewing for the board exams and even funded my MBA studies when I was already earning. You bought our high grades when we were younger, thus triggering competitiveness and sense of achievement. I didn’t get the same number of high grades as my brothers, but I was still able to get some that you eventually gave up coz you no longer can keep up with us. So even without you buying our grades anymore, I still carried on and you mounted that stage every end of the schoolyear, pinning that nice little ribbon for being a honor student. Essentially my way of getting your attention and approval.

But I always felt that it was still not enough. Even me passing the board exam and becoming a people manager at the young age of 23 weren’t making headway. The turning point was when I was offered my first expat role, where I have to move to a country that I barely know at a very young age and without much life and travel experiences. I remember you flying to Manila just to see me off, which without much words exchanged made me feel how proud you are of me, a young man chasing his dreams, taking risks, and seeking new adventures. That was the first time I felt your approval and changed my life completely. Looking back I now understand: that to some extent you saw your young self in me.

From thereon, I started collecting brief moments of pride from you Pa. From that priceless moment when I first saw you cry (happy tears) inside St. Peter’s Basilica (when I brought you and Mom to Vatican), where upon asking why you were crying, you said “Di ko ma imagine na makalab-ot ako diri” (I never imagined that I would ever get here) to that time when you hugged me (for the first time) when I got home in tears for the wake of my brother. Each time I would have short-term assignments in Europe and Africa, where unlike Mom who would be concerned every time I fly off, in not so many words you would express your approval by just saying “Cge, halong lang” (You go, take care) with hints of pride in your tone. Even in your sick bed, I would notice tears in your eyes every time you see me in action, talking to doctors and directing nurses and aides, where I could sense your feeling of comfort, of being in a safe space every time I’m there, where at that very moment you know that you are in good hands, that everything will be taken care of, not to mention that you probably also miss me and proud of what I’ve become.

Recently I have good news that I was hoping to share with you after your recovery. I got a job offer that made company history by being the first Asian to be offered an expat role in the subsidiary of the global company that I work for in one of the LATAM (Latin America) countries. They could have chosen anyone from the Asia Pacific hubs in Hongkong, Singapore, Japan, and Australia, or from the hubs in Europe and NAM (North America) and even within LATAM, but they chose me. I was deciding whether to take this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity or not, having you in mind. It wasn’t an easy decision, which unlike here where it will only take an hour by plane to get to you, it will take a day or two if I decide to move continents. But then I know that you won’t hold me back, especially that this probably would be the pinnacle of what you and Mom have always inculcated in us, to pursue recognition, respect, and representation. Recognition of my brand, respect for my name and body of work, and representation of Asian (particularly Filipino) talents where it will not only open doors for me but for everyone else in the Asian community. You will also be glad to know that in preparation for the new role, I am now learning Spanish (enrolled at Instituto Cervantes) which would make me a polyglot (after Hiligaynon which is our native tongue, Filipino/Tagalog which is our second language, and English as our third) once I’ve achieved proficiency in reading, writing, and speaking. I was envisioning that months from now you will see me off again, with pride in your eyes, as I embark on new adventure. But then you left early, embarking on your own adventure without me seeing you off, without me able to share this wonderful news with you.

I spent half of my life seeking your attention and approval and the other half making you proud. I guess this is your legacy, giving me a purpose-driven life. This is how I celebrate “you”. This is how you helped make my dreams come true.

I love you Pa and rest assured that I will continue to make you proud.

Your loving son (who finally have found closure),

Franz

P.S. Thank you to everyone who have consoled us in our time of grief and who continue to pray for the soul of Papa. To the hospital staff that released my Dad’s remains and the funeral home that took the same for cremation without me paying a single centavo (my only currency is my name and my word), thank you for the trust that you have extended to me (you know who you are). You made it smooth and easy for me to make arrangements in spite of the distance and the circumstance. I am truly blessed to have people like you in my life.