My dad. Boss Dick. Was an extraordinary man. He was born with a father who was the son of a very wealthy man in sibonga cebu. My fathers grandfather is of spanish origin. He was so wealthy that he became mayor of the old sibonga at a young age...Don Ramon Balbuena. But that is not my story. This is.. I remember tales from my lola dadang and my daddys elder sisters. My boss dick is the youngest of 12 siblings. At a very young age. His tender years, my dad would wake up early to sell the newspapers. Then go home and make some charcoal. And while waiting for it to be ready, my dad would go to the sea to fish. And then he would sell the fish, the shells, the sea cucumbers and the charcoal to market. Before he would come home, he would do some shoe shining for added income. Then he would rush home with a plastic full of bread on one hand and a kilo or two on the other.. His older sister the late tiya sayong told me that my boss dick would be calling out their names though he was fifty meters away. And then my dad would still find time to go to school. Though he wasnt able to finish his education, he found himself a means of income. He learned the trade of jewelry. My uncle manoy told me that my dad was one of the best alahero in cebu. In the 1960s he was earning the monthly salary of a bank manager per week. And i love the foods he always bring home. My daddy has his weaknesses. He isnt an ideal man. He plays majong. Sometimes for a day.. A week...at times more than a week. He bets on the cockpits. He plays monte. He bets on billiards too. But i have so very fond memories of my dad. He speaks in a mild voice. He speaks no evil against his fellowmen. He sings well too. My father though born of a wealthy grand dad, he and his siblings never had this in their mind set they worked hard to please my lola. One time i asked him..: daddy arent we going to claim right of ownership to my great grand lolos estate?... And mind you it is about 250 hectares of land.. His answer to me was: my son, it isnt right for one to claim something that one hasnt toiled with sweat and blood..( just like my mom). But the fondest memory i have with my dad is that never has he spoke to me in a high pitched, cursing voice.. He has always spoken to me in a mild and moderate way. Never has he laid his arms to discipline me, in my always naughty mood.. Whenever i do something bad, my dad would just tell me to try not to be bad again for if his patience would run out, i would never be able to see him again. I feared those words. So that is why i would be a good boy... Well for two days at least. Hahahahahaha My dad has exposed me to long vacations.. He and my mother would take me to mindanao whenever there was time... Free time for me. Imagine at age two, i traveled the whole of the zamboanga peninsula! My father as a jeweler has clients and costumers that would ask him to visit their towns and do some business there. My dad may not have given me and my siblings a wealthy life. But he gave me more to that. He giveth me Love. A love that defied even the protests of his doctors when he isnt allowed to travel back to the philippines due to his illness. The long hours of flight can kill him before reaching cebu. But my dad couldnt be stopped. He told my mom that he needs to come home becoz i am waiting for hin to come home and to arrive as a passenger...not as cargo. And then a week before he died he told me this: my son, always understand and listen to your mother...always take care of all your children... Dont mind what people may think of you, just do what for you is neccessary. I miss my boss dick.
Posted on: Sat, 14 Jun 2014 01:37:45 +0000
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