Tatay

Tatay was an OFW, well sort of. Out for work always.

I grew up not seeing much of him because his jobs required him to always be in Manila or elsewhere---a really big sacrifice for my parents who wanted to make sure their eight kids (I'm the bunso) were armed with something better for their future.

Being teachers---Tatay taught High School Physics, Math and Biology while Nanay was Grade One maestra---they planned on sending us all to college, so being employed somewhere seemed the only way for this dream to come true. (Tatay had always wanted to be a doctor but his father's early death sealed that possibility off.)

So I don't recall spending a lot of time with Tatay when I was little.

One incident I could not forget. I must have been four of five years old that time: had my usual temper tantrum one weekend. Arriving from work, Father caught me in the middle of my screaming and kicking frenzy while I threw whatever object I could get hold of from the top of the stairs.

This was an age when whacking one's kids meant discipline, not abuse. Yes, I got the belt. And learned a great lesson that day.

Tatay was a disciplinarian and his booming voice always scared me and my brother Dan (my best friend and playmate when we were kids, he's the 7th) witless.

As I got older, I learned to appreciate Tatay more. He instilled integrity in us---to the point of sacrifice.

He worked longest at the Bureau of Internal Revenue. There was an instance when he lost an envelope-full of documentary stamps---which cost quite a sum---because he fell asleep while commuting from their head office.

He could just have made excuses or lied about it, but I remember him selling a piece of his itsy-bitsy inheritance to pay it off. This was when corruption was already rampant in that agency.

I cherish having spent more time with him and Nanay when they were already retired and living with my sister Malu in the U.S.

(That is why I love Mcdonald's so much. I love to tell my Marketing students this story: Tatay always treated us to McDonald's when we'd go out. So McDonald's meant more than just burgers. It became some sort of comfort food to me. It meant precious times with my parents. They had always been busy trying to feed and clothe and educate their eight children when they were younger; so those bonding moments gave me the chance to get to know them better!)

Tatay suffered from cancer toward the end of his life. (He passed away 1989 and would have turned 101 this June 28.) The disease had already penetrated his bones and doctors warned us the pain would be pretty excruciating.

But he didn't show any sign of pain or complained of anything. His voice no longer boomed. As he lay on his hospital bed and with his barely audible voice, he would always thoughtfully remind us to eat. Then he slept his final sleep.

I believe Tatay is in heaven, in the presence of the Father who sustained him as he faithfully fulfilled his role as husband, father and provider.

One day, I will hear his booming voice again. And I will behold with him Jesus who sustained us both, in that place where there is no more pain or suffering---or OFWs.

For the Lamb of God at the center of the throne will be their Shepherd; He will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe every tear from their eyes. (Rev 7:17)