FATHER’S DAY: Adventures and misadventures with Dad

Part of a series on dads—and being a dad—for Father's Day.


My dad has never been through a life-and-death situation. He did not serve in the military. He is not an OFW either. Needless to say, he is very much alive today.

I gave up thinking of ways to make my daddy stories dramatic, because all I end up remembering are our misadventures. From bike rides to serious talks, he has never failed to make me laugh, cry, and laugh until I cry.

1990
I don't even recall this happening as I was only a few months old. But my mom likes telling me the story of how I fell from my hammock. My dad was pushing the "duyan" back and forth to make me sleep. Lo and behold, the rope snapped and down came the baby tumbling. Up to this day, my dad claims the fall improved my I.Q.

1994
I was still the only child, so my dad brought me along wherever he went. (Mostly because I would tug on his shorts when I see him dressing out of his pambahay) We were happily riding a bike when, for some reason, my foot got stuck inside one of the wheels. He lost control and we both fell to the ground. In front of the public market.

1995
My bicycle scars have probably not yet healed when I fell into a canal. Yes, into a canal.

My mom went off to buy a birthday gift for one of my classmates. She never let me play outside without parental supervision because she thought I'd end up with bumps and bruises (oh, a mother's wisdom).

So left home alone with dad, I rushed outside the door while my dad slept. I don't know what I was thinking, but I was balancing on the gutter, successfully slipping and ending up with one thigh inside the canal.

I came home more scared of my mom than of my wounds. My thigh looked like it was scratched by Wolverine—three two-inch long cuts that wouldn't stop bleeding. My dad said it was so huge, trains could literally come out of it. I cried.

2003
Our family can be called old-rich in Navotas and Malabon back in the 80s. After the grandparents retired from our fish business, my dad took charge.

But one time, he trusted a business partner who turned out to be a swindler. She took all the money my parents had, including some they had just borrowed. I met her once, that woman named Josie. She was thin and short and she spoke sparsely. I never thought she could ruin our lives. After taking legal action, I never once heard them talk about her again.

2011
As I got older, I started to understand the realities of life—mortgages, debts, bills. My dad had to work in the province for a while because that was where the business opportunity was. He was gone for a month and we saw how important he was at home.

My sister and I were left with our mom who had to cook, wash the dishes, and drive us around every single day. My parents have never been apart that long since they got married in 1989. Mom didn't say a word, but I know that she missed dad terribly. Sometimes I'd even catch her crying while talking to him on the phone.

When he finally came home, it was like ten extra hands were added in the household. Everything was just much easier.

2012
I have always been independent. I'm not fond of showing or telling anyone when I'm hurt or frustrated. Especially not my dad.

So when I had my first heartbreak, I cried to my mom and my sister. I put on my usual cheery face whenever I was with my dad. But one time, na-corner niya ako sa kotse.

He asked me what happened. He just sat quietly while driving, listening to me rant about how a boy ruined my idea of a love story. Now that I think about it, my problem was so petty compared to all the things my parents were going through. But instead of chastising me, he said this: "Hayaan mo na. Kung nagbreak kayo, ibig sabihin may better na para sa'yo."

A lot of my friends and relatives had already said the same thing, but it was different coming from a man. It was different coming from my dad. At that moment, I knew things would indeed get better.

2015
The other week my dad caught the bubwit that had been terrifying me and my sister.

Today, he let me have the last bite of his Father's Day cake.

That's how I can say he is a hero—because he always goes out of his way to be there for me. From every success to every failure. From every school play when I was a kid to every news report now that I am an adult.

So to the one man who I know will love me regardless of how much I achieve and fail (and how much I eat), Happy Father's Day! You really set the bar high for my future husband. We love you, daddy Marvin!