Gosh, it’s been a while since I posted an entry here. I had a good time reading every day.
Do you know that if Dad has been alive, he’ll be 100 years old today? He was born on January 16, 1922. As I have said before, I celebrate his birthday and remember him always during his death anniversary. We lost him one December night fifteen years ago after a long battle with ESRD (end stage renal disease) and six months of dialysis. Until his death, I was able to talk to him. That was the time he remembered stories about his parents, our Tatay Ayong and Nanay Maria. My grandmother died when their youngest was born. I haven’t even seen pictures of her but my uncles told me I looked like her, even with some uncanny mannerisms that I inherited. Maybe that’s why I was so closed to them before.
I imagine those times that Mom, Dad and I would sit at the ledge of our garage and talk about anything under the sun while we watched some passersby. Dad was full of those advices that I took to heart. When Tatay Ayong died, his siblings looked up to him, consulting him in any major decision that they have to make. He had other half-siblings (eight in all) when my grandfather remarried. I’d like to think I was closer to Dad than to mom. It was only the three of us (my oldest brother), dad and I when we were in high school while mom took care of my two brothers in the province. I learned how to cook because of him. His half-sisters are all good cooks. He would instruct while watching me cook. That’s the way I learned those yummy recipes while growing up.
What a coincidence! Today, the memorial service of his friend Mama Julian was held in Australia this morning. It was a lovely tribute to a friend my dad was closed too. Wow, Nana Mina was so beautiful.
A hundred years, imagine? I miss you….still! 🎉🎈🎊
Dreams And Escapes 
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