My old man was many things to many people. However, this is not the rarest distinction I would say that best describes him. As we all have got different sets of friends and acquaintances in our lifetime, it is only natural these people only see different facets of us each time. And more often than not, how deeply or more personal we know somebody always depends on how and where we interact with guy, be it in the workplace or outside. It’s actually like we’re watching an actor perform on stage from different parts of the theater.
Even when he was still alive, most of us in the family would always get the same reaction whenever the people we meet realize we’re either a son, daughter, grandchild, or a great-grandchild of our father. At each time, whenever they proclaim, I know Mang Ading, we would sense they’re saying it with a tinge of belongingness and pride. It’s as if what they meant to say was, ‘I’m proud I know that man’.
In December of last year, my nephew, who’s already fast developing into a fine golfer, incidentally ran into an old caddy at the golf course and the old guy proclaimed he knew his lolo well. Because of the guy’s profuse admiration at how good my father played the game, my poor nephew found it too difficult to play without any pressure, fearing his game and still-unpolished technique might be compared to how the old man played when he was alive. In my case, some of my friends would come to me and say, even though he was a ‘jolly good fella’, always with a joke in handy, he played a mean and practical game. It was always ‘straight to the hole’ and they never got to beat him even once.
Alas, when the time came he wasn’t able to play golf anymore and his activity became limited. When he finally retired, his only active engagement was attending a religious prayer group composed of young and old businessmen and professionals. Even at that, members, some of whom were classmates and school acquaintances of ours, would still approach us just to say, they’re amazed at our old man and his people and extemporaneous skills.
When even that single activity finally dwindled down to just being propped in chair in the old house all day, with rare visits to the mall nearby, his only request was to sit him down at the driveway gate so he could watch people go by.
That will always be one of my fondest and lasting memories of my father. The rest from my youth and adult years are all bundled up and set aside, but for the moment, that’s how I wish to remember him in my mind’s eye. We’re eventually all headed and destined to occupy his place at the gate someday. When all is done and we’re finally content, just sit and watch life’s parade go by.
