Counting Potatoes

Remember

One cannot begin to describe the anguish of having 27 years of memories of having a father grinding to a stop in a single day. I have lived through this day a thousand times in my mind when I knew he was dying but no amount of preparation and acceptance could blunt the pain of final farewells to someone we love.

Things that once littered the house now serves testament to a presence that will never be shared again, the boots he used to bring to the farm, the tools he so lovingly kept, the folders he brought home from work, the sandals he used to wear.. are suddenly all that's left of a loving father who has graced our lives.

Life has to go on and in time they say that the wounds will heal and the memories fade. But in the tradition of the pharaohs and their pyramids, the Aztecs and their temples, the loved queen and the Taj Mahal, I hope remembrance will defy the finality of death and the passing of a life once lived. Let my memories serve as the bricks for my father's monument and cyberspace its foundation.

Kindergarten

I remember thinking when we could stop, pee and stretch our legs as we're headed to tiwi (3 kids and 2 parents) on a motorcycle.

I remember getting my ass whipped because we killed our pet turtle.

I remember us walking on our father's back because he says its back massage.

I remember learning how to write using the tracing paper he used to bring home.

I remember us falling in line so that we could have our turn being hand-fed by our father.

I remember papa crying because of frustration, his fists bunched at his sides because he did not want to hit mama.

Gradeschool

I remember papa and me skipping lunch because we had to finish Battle City, a Nintendo game.

I remember the weekends out where our whole family would eat Graceland pizza, Halo-halo and bartillos.

I remember the yearly summer trips to sorosogon, where papa could spend some time with his cousins and we could while away time filching pili candies.

I remember our family spending one summer near the beach in Tiwi

I remember Midnight, the black puppy papa took home from Tiwi.

I remember us falling in line so that we can take turns welcoming (making mano po) our father home whenever he comes home from work and kissing his cheek as he go to work early in the morning.

I remember some afternoons spent with him, watching reruns of Star Wars movies.

I remember Santa Claus, the stories of how we just missed seeing him, the letters in the tree, the new set of clothes for our xmas party and the gifts and noche buena at Xmas eve.

I remember the drives around the town as he toured us to see the Xmas belens and xmas lights of Naga City.

I remember us spending the night outside the house because he locked us out and he was mad about us coming home late.

I remember how we shop around for school supplies at the start of every school year. Glossy brand new notebooks all line up and a pencil case full of new pens inside the bag.

Highschool

I remember being kicked out the house because of not helping out in moving our things to another apartment.

I remember being surprised at him attending my YFC (youth for Christ) closing ceremony (a deeply emotional affair which he usually avoids).

I remember the family trips to the local cinema where we would wait for the last full show of the movie.

I remember him getting mad at me for spending too much time playing the Command and Conquer strategy game late at night, when he himself got so much more addicted to the same game when he tried it out. General Red.

I remember our solo trips to the cinema to watch Sci-fi films (contact, Star Trek, etc) because nobody else wanted to come with us. Also, I remember the sound effects he used to make as he tells the story over the table afterwards.

I remember the day when they finally dropped me off in my first college boarding house and how hesitant they were in leaving me there.

College

I remember when he came with me to Intramuros to help me gather materials for my first college report for my History class.

I remember the trips to the farm and how we would talk about crop yields and how big the farm was before. Mostly, I remember how we would just stand side by side looking at the farm in comfortable silence.

I remember the nights where I would travel from diliman to ayala just so i could sleep over in his airconditioned room, eat chef salad and watch movies with him in Glorietta whenever he was in Manila.

I remember papa trying to teach me how to drive and failing.

I remember us trying to hide our smoking habits from our father. His acceptance of the fact and our smoking sessions together.

I remember him playing the "strangers in the night" song in the organ and how Nasser sang along with it.

I remember papa waking me up very early in the morning, all dressed in running shoes and shorts, just to ask me if I wanted to jog and my grumpy reply.

I remember papa and me window shopping in a Glorietta toy store, drooling over a remote controlled helicopter.

I remember him convincing our mother to buy a PS1 console because we kids 'wanted' it when in fact, it was he who was itching to bring home the unit.

I remember him bringing home dance pads for our PS1, pretending to be bored, then dancing with us.

Post College

I remember him being very very smug for completing all the single player medals in Command and Conquer Zero Hour and how he challenged me to beat 3 brutal enemy armies.

I remember how shocked he looked when I beat him in his own strategy game when we played against each other over a local network. General Red Vs. General Gasparov. Since then, I teased him by asking if he would like to play against the most brutal of armies.

I remember our trips together to the massage parlor and how he would complain about the sadistic masseuse afterward.

I remember how manay jing used to tease him with an ice cube (he jumps when touched by cold objects).

I remember our weekend Badminton games with lala and bhenki where we would spend one hour or so sweating and feeling smug about our rare exercise sessions.

I remember eating out or having coffee with bhenki, mama and papa late at night everytime we withdrew our salaries from the bank.

I remember the coffee conversations, the political debates and discussions about the Iraq war. I remember how he used to say that the war would've been long over if we just nuke the talibans.

I remember how he would holler when our favorite shows in discovery channel are shown, future weapons, mission to mars, etc and how he would launch into a full blown commentary during the show.

I remember his hyena-like laugh, where his eyes would all crinkle up and his hands would slap at the table as we joked about out of this world scenarios like tia caring doing the matrix or a high tech fortress like house or state of the art yacht during a world famine.

I remember how his eyes twinkled at the mention of 'picha', nachos, chef salad, marigoso salad or 'burjer'.

I remember how fascinated he was with our online work and his suggestions.

I remember him sneaking foodstuffs and fruits in my shopping cart as i do the monthly grocery, my mock exasperation and his sheepish grin.

I remember him bringing home the very first piglet for our hog raising venture.

I remember his stories about how Lola made her fortune and about how he also decided to finally take life seriously and work hard when he had his own kids.

I remember how we used to plan how we would renovate our home and apartment.

I remember his wind powered water pump project and how we used to discuss how to make it work.

Post stroke

i remember how hard i prayed to God that papa will be ok as i waited for a ride home, how i almost fainted when the doctor said that they might have to drill a hole in his head and how happy i was that he was able to recover his movements days after his stroke.

I remember him promising me that he will be fine in time for the harvest and discussing with me how to manage the farm.

I remember being so mad at him at insisting on a cig, how i pushed and shouted at him after slapping the cig stick from his hands and how he quit afterward when given one pack.

I remember being so mad at him and avoiding him for not exercising to regain his strength and focusing instead in wanting daily body massage.

I remember dragging him back to his room when he tried to slap the wires with a stick during an electrical failure.

I remember him having his second stroke, the doctors report of an undiagnosed cancer and the low hopes of the doctors for papa surviving the year.

I remember papa asking me to teach him how to pray the rosary after his last confession.

I remember writing papa a text message hoping that he'll find happiness and pride in the life he'd lived and to forgive me for focusing on my fears instead of the love we all have for him.

I remember having high hopes with the herbal medicines delivered from manila.

I remember spending time with him, massaging his tired arms and legs, helping him sit up, listening to his mp3 music and trying to memorize every aspect of his face, hoping against hope he feels the love and concern i have for him even without words and that it was not too late for him to recover.

I remember him dying on a Thursday night surrounded by his family whispering their love and their prayers in his ear, how much they are proud of him and how much he means to us...

I remember him strong, his expression wakanga, the sound of his footsteps as he climbs up the stairs, the belt bag slung over his shoulder, and the faraway look in his eyes as he watched his last harvest in the farm.

I remember the box we placed in his grave containing his cig case, his nail care set, his vicks inhaler, his favorite games, his TV remote, his slingshot, his wallet and anything else he might need for his trip.

Its the little things I miss the most and are somehowthe most painful to remember. His quiet presence, riding at the back of the car with him at the wheel, watching sci fi movies with him, our yosi sessions together, coffee conversations, his corny jokes and a thousand other things I have always taken for granted.

I remember and I will remember even if it opens the wounds of a thousand what if's and what could've beens each and everytime...

I will remember...

Not to take anything in life for granted...

That every little thing pales to insignificance when someone you love is dying...

To show love each day as I'll never know what tomorrow will bring..

To forgive, to listen, to understand...

I will remember papa so that my own kids will know what their lolo was like when he was alive.

I will remember, for remembrance is the only way i can still be with my father.

Till we see each other again Pa.

	Remember