Paying Tribute

Why is Father's Day given less importance than Mother's Day? Even my husband thinks that the latter is more important. I think they should be given the same weight. We have different roles but one cannot function without the other. Jason would be the first to acknowledge how great a Dad he is. We celebrated it yesterday with huge platters of food at Claim Jumper.

I used to agonize a couple of weeks before Father's Day. Those who know me well know that my relationship with my late father was complicated. He was away a lot during my early childhood due to the nature of his job. To say the least, it was an adjustment when he decided to start the family business and was at home everyday. I never knew how to talk to him and I suspect he pretty much felt the same way. This was probably compounded by the fact that I left Cebu when I was 19 and would only be home for a few days out of the month after that. The few instances I would find myself alone with him were covered by awkward silences or silly jokes. I am ashamed to admit that my mother and sisters were a buffer in our relationship that I welcomed.

We have a standing joke that all my good traits come from my mother while all the bad ones come from my father. However, it was from him that I learned how to stand up for myself and for others. I learned from him to tell the truth even when it hurts. He never sugarcoated; he told it like it was. I am sure my mother would agree that my ability with numbers come from my father, as well as my ability to carry a tune. I do admit though that my impatience comes from him.

Despite our rocky relationship, I knew he loved his children. That was never the problem. He showed up at school/social functions which I knew he disliked. He would ferry us around when we had parties to attend, even when they were late at night. I remember vividly the night he took me and my older sister out for "the talk" about boys, it was excruciating. He would glower at unsuitable men, especially those who broke his daughters' hearts. He would sometimes come home with food he knew we liked, or ask one of the helpers to go out and buy it. If one of my sisters went to the mall with him, more often than not, they came home with something he would purchase for them.

He was sick for a while. Because of that, his bark became less loud although no less scary. He still knew how to glare. Maybe because I would only see him every other year after I got married, he always tried to be on his best behavior when I was home. I really appreciated that. I do not know if I ever said "thank you". In fact the last time I ever saw him, the last thing I said to him at the airport was "be good". He gave me a look. I am saying thank you now, and "Happy Father's Day". I hope wherever he may be, he knows that I mean it.