Happy Father's Day, Pingping!
I’ve never called my dad any other name than Pingping. He has always wanted his kids to call him that and we never really knew why. It is a unique term of endearment for a one-of-a-kind father. Being Jose Jr., he is either Jun or Peping to his family and many friends.
Pingping in NY (October 2004)
He will be 68 this August and he remains healthy, tough, funny and loving. He can still also beat the &#!%*@ of anybody my age in a game of tennis anytime. On the tennis court, he has baffled many of the source of his energy as he can outlast and outscore anyone half his age.
Growing up I adulated my father like any daughter. I basked in his attention and envied the special loving relationship he had with my mom. Now almost 40 years married they are the only couple I know who still walk hand in hand even if it is just at the mall. He still opens the door for her. They have a friendship that has withstood many trials. They have cushioned each other from the blows of life. And to this day, every night after dinner they would sit outside and talk until it was time to sleep. And God knows how they never run out of stories to tell. It is a rarity in this time and age of separations and divorces. And when you have him as a standard to measure the qualities of your boyfriend/s, very few really make the mark.! And so it was a frustrating cycle for Gigi and I to seek out someone who was like him.
With mom at the UN
Unlike the typical Filipino male, my dad didn’t mind helping out in the house especially during the weekends. While my mom cooked all the meals at home, my dad washed the pots and the dishes. Besides, no one else did it as perfectly as he did because when he was done, the whole kitchen would be spotless. He took care of our small garden and has always done the landscaping himself. Picking out the plants from the nursery and then selecting their spot in the garden and then nurturing them was his favorite pastime. And let me tell you that when he gets into that mood of polishing his shoe collection, there would be a long row of gleaming Florsheims and Ballys in the garage. And don’t even let me get started how he is when he gets into cleaning the cars! My obsessive-compulsiveness is something I’m sure I got from him.
Like any other office worker, my dad totally loathed his job . Yet he continued to devote himself to his work and passed this on to his children. Be grateful of what opportunities you have, he would always remind us. My father is the politician who befriends everyone. And when he retired just a little before his 60th birthday we had a bunch of people who we call tita or tito who have become ‘adopted relatives’ and who used to work with him. Tita Jane was his devoted ‘assistant’ and to this date we’d still visit her at home during Christmas season to catch up.
And yet my dad is not always smiling and in a jolly mood. He is not perfect. I’ve seen him go through many troubles and though he has stood like the Rock of Gibraltar I know that it has also weathered him. Besides, raising two daughters like Gigi and myself and then Francis is not an easy task. When matters of disciplining were elevated to my dad’s attention it was time for a logical reasoning. We’d better have a good explanation for our offense. Yet despite the gravity of our misdemeanors while growing up, my dad had never hurt us physically or verbally. I guess after my mom would tell him what we have done he’d give himself time to calm down before he’d call for us. And usually it is the waiting that would be most torturous. And when he got started he’d always ask first what our side of the story was. And that is how I became a writer. I learned to organize my thoughts well enough to mitigate the blow of my delinquencies. And never EVER lie – because you’ll always get found out.
A fact I've known most of my adult life is that I am what I am now because of what he has been to me. My character, my temperament, the way I think, the way I speak have semblances of him. In the way I make decisions and the way I can stretch my patience but just snap instantly are all like him.
My greatest fear had always been to disappoint him and I know in my lifetime I’ve succeeded doing that quite some. Yet he has always loved me unconditionally and accepted my faults as part of me like he has the rest of his brood including my daughter, Nicole. He has loved us with our imperfections and we have returned the feeling more than ten-fold to the man who taught us what being a father is all truly about.
His life is easier now with the kids all grown and gone away. His daughters are in the US and Francis, now a doctor is raising a family of his own. His joys are simpler – news from the farm in Mindoro that the mango trees are fruiting would take him on a high for days. Phone calls from his daughters, having Francis visit with Lai, Gabrielle and Liam; Nicole coming home from the university for the weekends, his tennis games, and his regular dose of nicotine and caffeine. His newest sweetheart is Gabrielle who seeks him out when she gets sleepy because in his arms she finds her solace and where she would instantly fall into a slumber assured that she is safe and loved.
With Gabrielle (December 2004)
I look at my father now and see him with more appreciation, gratitude and respect. He has done so much to provide us with a comfortable life and prepare us for a challenging future. And all this as the sole breadwinner of our family. There will probably be nothing I can do to repay him for what he has given me because there is no monetary equivalent for all I have received. But somehow I hope that in the life that I will live, in the one or two things that I will accomplish I can make him proud. And make him realize that these are the small tokens I can afford to let him know that I love him.
To my Pingping and the other fathers/uncles/kuyas/titos who are special in their own loving paternal way: HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!!!
P.S. Happy Father's Day, Francis!!!!!
Francis with Gabrielle and Liam (June 2005)
Note: This article has previously appeared on my personal website (before the blog) for Father's Day 2003.
Pingping in NY (October 2004)
He will be 68 this August and he remains healthy, tough, funny and loving. He can still also beat the &#!%*@ of anybody my age in a game of tennis anytime. On the tennis court, he has baffled many of the source of his energy as he can outlast and outscore anyone half his age.
Growing up I adulated my father like any daughter. I basked in his attention and envied the special loving relationship he had with my mom. Now almost 40 years married they are the only couple I know who still walk hand in hand even if it is just at the mall. He still opens the door for her. They have a friendship that has withstood many trials. They have cushioned each other from the blows of life. And to this day, every night after dinner they would sit outside and talk until it was time to sleep. And God knows how they never run out of stories to tell. It is a rarity in this time and age of separations and divorces. And when you have him as a standard to measure the qualities of your boyfriend/s, very few really make the mark.! And so it was a frustrating cycle for Gigi and I to seek out someone who was like him.
With mom at the UN
Unlike the typical Filipino male, my dad didn’t mind helping out in the house especially during the weekends. While my mom cooked all the meals at home, my dad washed the pots and the dishes. Besides, no one else did it as perfectly as he did because when he was done, the whole kitchen would be spotless. He took care of our small garden and has always done the landscaping himself. Picking out the plants from the nursery and then selecting their spot in the garden and then nurturing them was his favorite pastime. And let me tell you that when he gets into that mood of polishing his shoe collection, there would be a long row of gleaming Florsheims and Ballys in the garage. And don’t even let me get started how he is when he gets into cleaning the cars! My obsessive-compulsiveness is something I’m sure I got from him.
Like any other office worker, my dad totally loathed his job . Yet he continued to devote himself to his work and passed this on to his children. Be grateful of what opportunities you have, he would always remind us. My father is the politician who befriends everyone. And when he retired just a little before his 60th birthday we had a bunch of people who we call tita or tito who have become ‘adopted relatives’ and who used to work with him. Tita Jane was his devoted ‘assistant’ and to this date we’d still visit her at home during Christmas season to catch up.
And yet my dad is not always smiling and in a jolly mood. He is not perfect. I’ve seen him go through many troubles and though he has stood like the Rock of Gibraltar I know that it has also weathered him. Besides, raising two daughters like Gigi and myself and then Francis is not an easy task. When matters of disciplining were elevated to my dad’s attention it was time for a logical reasoning. We’d better have a good explanation for our offense. Yet despite the gravity of our misdemeanors while growing up, my dad had never hurt us physically or verbally. I guess after my mom would tell him what we have done he’d give himself time to calm down before he’d call for us. And usually it is the waiting that would be most torturous. And when he got started he’d always ask first what our side of the story was. And that is how I became a writer. I learned to organize my thoughts well enough to mitigate the blow of my delinquencies. And never EVER lie – because you’ll always get found out.
A fact I've known most of my adult life is that I am what I am now because of what he has been to me. My character, my temperament, the way I think, the way I speak have semblances of him. In the way I make decisions and the way I can stretch my patience but just snap instantly are all like him.
My greatest fear had always been to disappoint him and I know in my lifetime I’ve succeeded doing that quite some. Yet he has always loved me unconditionally and accepted my faults as part of me like he has the rest of his brood including my daughter, Nicole. He has loved us with our imperfections and we have returned the feeling more than ten-fold to the man who taught us what being a father is all truly about.
His life is easier now with the kids all grown and gone away. His daughters are in the US and Francis, now a doctor is raising a family of his own. His joys are simpler – news from the farm in Mindoro that the mango trees are fruiting would take him on a high for days. Phone calls from his daughters, having Francis visit with Lai, Gabrielle and Liam; Nicole coming home from the university for the weekends, his tennis games, and his regular dose of nicotine and caffeine. His newest sweetheart is Gabrielle who seeks him out when she gets sleepy because in his arms she finds her solace and where she would instantly fall into a slumber assured that she is safe and loved.
With Gabrielle (December 2004)
I look at my father now and see him with more appreciation, gratitude and respect. He has done so much to provide us with a comfortable life and prepare us for a challenging future. And all this as the sole breadwinner of our family. There will probably be nothing I can do to repay him for what he has given me because there is no monetary equivalent for all I have received. But somehow I hope that in the life that I will live, in the one or two things that I will accomplish I can make him proud. And make him realize that these are the small tokens I can afford to let him know that I love him.
To my Pingping and the other fathers/uncles/kuyas/titos who are special in their own loving paternal way: HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!!!
P.S. Happy Father's Day, Francis!!!!!
Francis with Gabrielle and Liam (June 2005)
Note: This article has previously appeared on my personal website (before the blog) for Father's Day 2003.