The face of fatherhood

Every day as I near my workplace, I look for him. He's the watch-your-car boy (or make that man) who helps me find parking space on Timog Avenue, the guy who helps stop traffic so I can maneuver smoothly into the parking spot he has found for me.

But really, in the past few months, I look for him for another reason: to see how he cares for his infant son.

I can still remember that sunny day in March when, after I parked in a spot I found under a tree, he came over from across the street, and with a wide smile, showed me the little baby in his arms, swaddled in a white blanket and with mittens on his tiny hands. 

That smile said it all -- it was a proud moment for him as he said, "Anak ko," and showed me the baby, who, as if on cue, opened his tiny mouth to yawn. Cuteness. Awwww.

Just a week before, his wife helped me park, then told me, "Iniwan na ako ng asawa ko!" I looked at her in shock, and at her bulging tummy. "Di ko alam kung nasaan siya. Ni ha ni ho, wala." I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything, then went to work.

Then the wife also disappeared, and I didn't see any sign of them until that day he showed up with the baby, with a smile on his face that could only come from joy bursting within.

Since then, I would look for them, and see the baby. It was amazing to find the baby so neat and clean every day, with mittens on his hands, a clean baby shirt, and a disposable diaper. The mother, who it seems has only one or two shirts in her possession, would lay out a clean blanket under a tree, put the baby on it and pitch a tiny mosquito net. 

When it looks like it will rain, they would tie some empty sacks of rice together and make a little tent right by the sidewalk where all three of them -- father, mother, baby -- would seek cover. 

And one time I found the baby in a little hammock made of blankets knotted together and tied to sidewalk posts. "May duyan na sila!" I reported to my editor who has seen them too before, and we both chuckled. Nag-level-up na sila.

Just last Friday, I peered into the baby's face and saw that his cheeks are fuller. "Tumataba na ah," I said to them, to which the mother replied, "Oo nga, ang lakas mag-gatas eh."

As I turned and walked toward the office, I couldn't help but think what the future would be like for them and for the baby? How in the world can you bring up a baby right on the streets?

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the father assisting another motorist. When all the vacant spaces for parking are full, he will attend to his bote-diyaryo "job," looking for recyclable stuff in garbage cans and sidewalks. Then he will bring his haul back to his family resting under the tree, and while the wife sorts the stash, he will take up the fan and start fanning the baby under the mosquito net.

It's a hard life, but it's an honest one, and his face says he's doing it for the little one who's napping peacefully as cars and jeeps zip by.

It's Father's Day. I hope the baby will grow up knowing how much his father loves him. – HS, GMA News