PAPANG

Just didn’t wake up one day calling this man “Papang” - it was a Creator’s ultimate plan – we were predestined to be father and son - neither one of us nor destiny can refuse.

 

No, I did not!

Each day the unfolding continued like an unfinished tapestry slowly forming a colorful picture, an endless story, a life between two creations – to justify the truth - to accept who we are in the name of family more than just resemblances.

I used to call him “Papang” for countless times, a Chavacano’s addressee to a father, but not anymore. He passed away years ago, and so this custom now remains a memory - a wonderful remembrance to testify that I once had a father.

My siblings and I know that he wasn’t a perfect head of the shelter - no one is anyway, but maybe he tried his hardest without our knowing. Then, it leaves to God to conclude the real thing.

Yet it was in his imperfection we learned tolerance. One response I have not even realized as a playful and naïve kid. We tried to understand believing that all this was just part of trials in life. I believed it myself.

When he failed us with our expectations, left promises gone with the wind, I remember being hopeful still for many years. Sometimes, he wouldn’t come home for a long time, leaving us having no food on the table.

That’s when I developed a real patience, and was patient enough to wait night and day amidst hunger. Maybe he was just somewhere with a pouch of rice and a kilo of fish in his hands. I trusted him because he was my father.

Like the rest of the fathers in the world, he was very transcendent at times. That’s because he worked hard like a carabao, and was very busy tending his little business. He was a businessman, and so we’d only got to see him during meals and bed times.

That’s when room was wide-opened for consideration because we truly appreciated his provision to keep his own family going not dying hungry. That’s the only thing we needed this time, so it didn’t matter when he wasn’t around to play with us or to help us with our homework or to admonish us around the table.

Again, in this imperfection and transcendence and unfulfilled promises I’ve grown up becoming what I am now. And when understanding over and over again wasn’t enough, we extended more and exerted deeper.

I am not saying it was an easy thing to do, it took struggles, pains, heartaches, longings, wonderings, and wanderings, but in the presence of my father served a life’s lesson - I learned to be a forgiving son – one thing, the  grace of God was evident at all times.   

He wasn’t my best friend either – it’s not our cultural thing – that’s a valid reason for sure. Ironically, I am the other side of the coin because deep in my heart I believe in the possibility of that all, like one normal kid wishes for. 

Another factor was our age gap – he was already in his forty’s when I was growing up as a kid – and I was the youngest among his twelve children. Or maybe not because he was actually kind to his two children, my half-siblings, taken cared of pampered.

That’s when I learned to distinguish between what’s real and not – it is true to others, but not for me. And no matter how I tried to win him over, he was just so unreachable. Only in my later years I’ve realized that he was actually an introvert person and doesn’t show any emotions.

Then I stopped thinking about having been deprived from having a good father. As I moved on, I prayed for more grace, for unconditional love, and for unending mercy although life wasn’t that fair honestly.

After all, I have grown up a lot - instead started looking at the bright side - what life ahead had to offer.

I was right.

By now, one can predict that he wasn’t an ideal father – but he was my father and that can never change a thing. And so, so, so thankful still to the Creator for giving me him – he may not be the best in the world in someone’s eyes, but then God has a reason why.

Yesterday, I browsed my sister’s album on Facebook. One picture took my breath away – it almost killed me. Then good memory after another with my father flashed before me – memories I called “once” if they are to be written in poem – memories have kept for many years to remove prejudices, judgments, condemnation, and sentiments towards my Papang.

Once he carried me on his shoulders from home to his work when my mom left home to her Creator for good. Then it never happened again.

Once he went to school with me to register me in first grade. That was the first and the last. I registered myself the next grades and in all my academic journeys.  

Once he bought me a pair of white socks in second grade so I can join the school’s big affair. No more second time since then.

Once he taught me the differences between “on and in” at young age, which other teachers didn’t teach the same way. He could have been a good teacher. And yes, he was an intelligent man. But he only taught me once my whole life.

Once we traveled together for the first time going to my eldest brother’s house. But then it never happened again because he didn’t recover from his sickness.

Once he affirmed me and bragged about me when I was admitted to a dream university – taking Mass Communication – maybe his first child to have such an accomplishment. Then I was the proudest son for the first time, for once in his presence. Then he left goodbye forever.

It’s almost two decades in the absence of my father, but it doesn’t mean he’s long forgotten. We still talk about him in small and big family get-together, but in a different point of view. After all, we’ve matured enough to let go of things and set aside those broken hopes.

If only he’s still alive, things will never be the same again. It’s a big regret! But we were only given little time to mend that up – I thank God for the healing so I can move a step - that was true deliverance for me.

I wasn’t around in his last breath, but we were already OK and back to pieces again – where God’s grace overshadowed every hurting heart.

So there was only one Papang in my life, my biological father, although I was fostered by many spiritual fathers after that.

Thanks Papang with all my heart, at least I wasn’t a fatherless for quite sometime. I can still tell a story about life is having a father.

Thank God I had a father - my Papang.

WEIRD SOLITUDE

Now in my utmost solitude, yet it's not the kind of  isolation my human urge anticipates - annoyed by endless drops of rain bringing nothing but laziness - thanks to hot coffee for such a company.

It isn't something this extrovert looks forward to - not with this awkward silence - when howling wind persistently echoes through my ears - bringing nothing but irritation; unwanted coldness; and sickness from this terrible season - thanks to the water of life for keeping me healthy.

Should I call it a "rest" then?

Not that I am aware of. And still, trying to take advantage of this moment amidst the bizarreness it brings - dreading it drearily. Sorry, I don't fancy rain or winter.

I woke up this morning in the absence of everyday noises and daily routines. Undeniably hearing a different sound from what I used to hear at the center.

There's not even a single clank of washed plates or the sweeping sound of a broom stick or the audible splash of spilled water from the bucket or the predictable pealing of  a bell or a bark of a dog or meow of a cat or crow of a rooster or a hint of a smoke at the kitchen or simply the sweet voice of a kid saying good morning and goodnight.

So strange of me, but the stillness alone in my room is killing me. Wish I had a remote control to pump-up the volume a bit, which nature doesn't have. Don't know how long this going to be, but can't wait to get out of this weird solitude.

Sooo weird!

As usual, got a cup of coffee in my hand to complete the day, but something seems missing. It's not the taste for sure - it's but the laughter around the table in the presence of every drinker - gathered round in the name of family - and where endless sip of this hot drink is accompanied with endless joy and childishness.

I was planning to go out for lunch somewhere to indulge some yummy fried chicken, my favorite food. For many times, been really craving for it but just didn't have time to visit this famous fast food chain. Now, my eyes were bigger than my watery mouth in delight, can't wait to devour some. But I didn't - it would only tastes funny.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked myself.

Then I am reminded of the kids back at the center eating the same cuisine every single day. And here I am having a break from that lifestyle.

Yesterday, was a sent off dinner - a simple get together prepared for me - only few were invited by the host. As everyone was enjoying the cuisine, I kept thinking about those who were not around. 

Am I guilty?

No, I am not. But it could have been better or joyful or tasteful having these kids around enjoying the meal. 

I know this is so funny, but soon I'll get over this. Think I'm just adjusting temporarily for this new direction. I can't blame my self for feeling this way.

I need a company.

I am not a loner.

The soul within me is saying that I'm not actually a home buddy, but I do need some rest even to its weirdness. I finally came to my senses that not every person in the world can easily access solitude. It takes a while or a long while.

Thank God for this wonderful gift of time where I can rest physically and hopefully from emotional stresses caused by too much work and demands. I must enjoy this opportunity amidst a situation I call "weird solitude".

See You Again

Once, last month, in one of my previous posts, had put into words those pictures of bitter-sweet goodbyes. There in vivid descriptions, two faces were brought to life – the bad and the good ones. And whether sad or not, it never ceases.

Wish I could make a pass, but this one is necessary. My countdown starts today - I’ll be kissing my work goodbye very soon – but not the people I worked with for seemingly long years.

This isn’t what others often say “cut loose” for I am not fastened anyway. Just want to have a break from this direction. It’s only another “see-you-again-stage” that life will unveil soon. Then my heart is at ease rather than saying an eternal goodbye.

I may have good reasons for my leave-taking, but I always like the idea of giving myself a space for unfinished businesses – which only future tells. I really do!

Better remind myself about this though, a thought from Ivy Baker Priest: “The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be the beginning.”  

So I won’t say anything like it’s the end of everything – maybe just the end of the road at the moment. After all, no one can predict time -I may end up back here again, but hope not.   

For now, as sad as it is, “see you again” would still be the best words to utter in this valediction. And no matter how persistent the feeling of loneliness all over me, I know His grace is abounding so that I can say something else soothing instead of a “goodbye”.    

Just hate goodbyes, but something must set aside to get to the other side. I have to learn this even in a painful way. I know for certain that this awkward feeling is only temporary. The hope is there as bright as the sun in day time and as the moon in night time. I am seeing these friends again, sooner or later. 

It’s not the end of collecting and sorting out memoirs yet– life isn’t that suppressing or stingy. As I have said earlier, it’s just a see you again moment of time. Richard Bach has comforting words on this: “Don't be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetime, is certain for those who are friends.”

All I can say is true.

Since goodbye isn’t forever, better say “see you again”. This without a doubt will bring comfort to the one that leaves and the ones left behind. In some sense or in many instances, “We only part to meet again” once said by an unfamiliar author – then this is believable – so see you again, then.

Because no one knows what lies ahead, I prefer how William Shakespeare views goodbyes. Maybe you’ll like his idea, too. “Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.”

And then would like to be responsible through an encouragement of another author: “Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.”  ~Garrison Keillor~

So, see you again!

Unwise “I DO!”

A former student came to bring typical news. She informed the teachers about her sister’s engagement ceremony. By the look of things, I predicted an intention – she wanted us to join the celebration.    

I know the culture a bit, and what it takes to show up, so didn’t want to feel like someone bringing a knife to a gunfight. You know, this little thing called money.

Upon my word, didn’t really have some money for this occasion – and so my decision was wavering. But I ended turning up still bringing nothing except for a palabra de honor. 

“I didn’t know your sister is dating!” I told my former student.

She smiled at me without a single comment.

I asked that question because her parents are actually strict freak. Even with her BGR (boy-girl-relationship) to my close friend is an ultimate taboo at home. Now, her younger sibling, who is just sixteen, is soon to say “I do”.

Last weekend, I and my kids were off to another village – to spend a chilly Saturday, and to celebrate a chilly birthday. That was my third time around, and so I am already acquainted with few of our host’s neighbors and relatives.

“Teacher, that girl is my cousin’s wife.” my foster daughter said.

“Huh? But your cousin is just fifteen years old!” I reacted, surprised.

Immediately, his cousin, a young boy, I met four months ago, became the talk around the table. That was a story I wouldn’t like my kids to hear, but they had to. With so many awful things to mention, we all learned that his mom has been cussing him a lot, every single day.

What can a fifteen-year-old-boy do anyway?

He’s just a lazy gangster dependent of a parent, yet has the courage to say “I do”. The worst is, he’s turned his poor home upside down by bringing a pregnant girl same as his age. 

This isn’t new to me in reality. I came from a tribe wherein early marriage, as young as 12-15 years old, is so permissible. But just couldn’t keep myself from wondering about this seemingly unwise decision.

Every family is so vulnerable to this early marriage situation if not aware. My family undeniably isn’t excluded with this trap.  But it was for a culture and necessity. And I don’t think it’s a good excuse then.

Let’s say, things happen unavoidably. Well, I have no objection to that. But I’m just regretful because life could have been better if one is wise enough to think. My sister is also an example to this unwise “I do”. For sure, there are families who are in the same shoes, too.

That’s how marriage is “only” measured through a shallow emotion.   

That’s why there are a lot of “baby mamas” in the world suffering the consequences.

That’s when “I do” is truly misunderstood.

One should tell me to avoid misconception. Because no matter how aware I am with this truth, my mind is in endless snoop – nosily thinking about those youngsters to say “I Do!” so easily when life is so difficult to bear.

Youngsters, it would be better if you think a million times first before saying an unwise “I do!” After all, a marriage life is not a fairy tale. You need to work things out with toughness.

Don’t be deceived by this unwise “I do!”  Wait for the right time, and then you’ll have a beautiful marriage amidst challenges.

BECAUSE

“So tired of going in and out of this country, but I’m doing this for everyone. The only thing I ask of you is study harder.” I admonished one of the kids last night.

I didn’t explain the anxiety of this all – the agony of traveling twenty hours every so often; the unpredictable dramas at the immigration; the pride to swallow meeting up with a sponsor for someone’s sake; the fear of being misunderstood amidst good intention; and all that involves in fundraising.

But I will tell her one of these days. For now, just want her to understand that someone cares. And nothing is more important than that.

Because it’s one in a million – not everyone one she meets in the street takes a notice or cares that much without hesitation or offers help and nothing else but pure help.

Because this someone is also a philanthropist – an uncle she hasn’t even met yet; a giver whose heart simply says ‘bless’; a goodhearted person with a willing mind considering others in need.

Because one has to embrace a sacrificial love – have set aside a priority maybe or have suppressed an important need for this one or have passed a saving this time.  

I thank God for bringing a generous person like Mr. Oliver. But I don’t think he likes the idea of bringing his goodness in the open. So saying a first name would do.

And thank God for the opportunity to help this needy girl.

She is one of the recipients for this kindness. This hopeful girl wants to be an English teacher in the future. She’s staying at the center to learn English. 

It’s not my business to pore over her intention or desire. Because we just want to help her follow that dream. No string attached. For sure, this goes with the sponsor’s intention as well.

Today, she came up with this one - a thank you note to a dear sponsor.

Then I talked to another kid the same night. I said exactly the same words except for one thing – oh, just an encouragement – to make his thank-you letter more creative. 

Because I believe he can do better, extra-ordinarily.

Because he has to learn this way – to value with love every sponsor that comes his way.  

“Do you know that engineers have creative thinking as far as science is concerned?  Do better than this plain writing!” I encouraged.

The next time, he came up with something beautiful – a unique note filled with thanksgiving. 

And then I spoke with one more little girl (who wants to be a lawyer) that same evening about the same message. I think she understands what I said.

But again, like the other kids, she also needed admonition and reminder. As young as she is, she might not be that appreciative still.  And so Daddy has to explain this magic word called “thank you.”

Because she has to have a grateful heart for all the goodness shown or for every kindness favored or for every help given her. If not, she’ll grow up having not a thankful attitude.

Because she has to learn that expressing thanks can be done in different simple ways – a thank you card for instance.

Because she has to put in mind as early as this the importance of being thoughtful to a sponsor as well.

“Life is harsh and mean at times. But there are kind people around, too - they lift us up, they encourage us, and they care about us. So never take them for granted. Appreciate, appreciate, and appreciate! ” I preached.

Few hours came, she handed me what she has made – another beautiful thank you card.

Because you help and care and show kindness and think about us – So a trillion thanks goes to each one of you.

God bless you!