Fathers have always been the images of strength. Back to the older days, Daddy used to wipe my sweat when I had too much fun and he would always bring something for me when he gets back from work. I cry my heart out as I relate to him what happened to me during that day—well , they are really not that trivial, just some petty quarrels with my brothers (I was the princess then) but he listened as I was the only one who mattered. Then he would kiss my forehead and tell me, “I love you, dai”. Back when I was a kid, I looked up to my dad as the source of strength, that measuring stick of whom I would base my future boyfriends, and nothing could tumble him down. However, earlier this year, my Dad had a stroke. The left side of his body was paralyzed. With this, our life turned into a 360 degree turn back. He couldn’t work. At first, his speech was muffled, he can’t raise his hand nor clench it. All his projects were put on hold, some disappeared. Our financial status was depleted because of the medicines and all the therapy. It was an emotional turmoil for my dad, my mom, me and my family. It burst out when someone said , “He will never get well. How can he be a great dad with him bedridden like that?” Harsh, but all I can say is “You just wait”.
Today, my family and I went to a beach outing to celebrate father’s day. My dad, who was bedridden 3 months ago, walked down the steep way towards our beach cottage, using his cane, beads of sweat trickling down his face. He was walking slowly but he tried his best to go to us, with a smile on his face. Today, I wiped my dad’s sweat when he sat down, breathless after his 30-meter walk, and I listened to him intently about what happened to his day, well not really the trivial ones, but hey, he’s my king for the day. And then I kissed him on the forehead and said, “I love you dad. I’m so proud of you”. And then he looked at me, took a look at all of my brothers and sister and my mom, and he hugged me and I saw a tear trickling down his face. And that’s when I knew—he is a great father, no matter how bedridden he is, no matter what others say, no matter what happens.
The tricky thing about fatherhood is that unlike any other business you’ve been into, there is no training. There’s no school that would offer B.S. Diaper Making or A.B. Teaching- your -child -how -to court –a- girl. The fact is, one can’t prepare ways on how to become a professional father. And while it is tricky, there’s no such thing as a professional father. However, for those fathers who have tried their best to extend their love, remaining strong by showing some signs of humanity in some emotional episodes (turning into mush with a hug, a smile, a text, an I love you, or walking down the aisle with his kid who’s about to get married), and for those who have seen their kids grow up to be the best they can be because of their lead, I salute all of you. I salute Tito Lito, (Lito’s dad) who, even with all his busy schedule, still has time with his family, doing all the grocery and being there for them when they need them, even if I need him. The support he has humbly and graciously given to his family is heroic and remarkable. I salute my wab, who has been a good father to our kids (you know who they are…). And of course, I salute my Dad… who has shown me how love is so immense it can be felt whatever the situation.
We all have our heroes because we base how we fight our battles by how they handled it. And yes, in my life, I have three great heroes. No degree in fatherhood? Doesn’t matter, they excel in greatness and heroism. And that’s all that matters.
Happy Fathers’ Day to all the fathers.
Photos by: Lito inso, proud son of Atty. Manuelito S. Inso
Article by: Arlyn Abellana, proud daughter of Engr. Arsenio A. Abellana
June 10, 2007, 9:22pm
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