The Treehouse

One of the treehouses Daddy built.

My Dad would have been 88 years old today. He's been gone for ten years now, but I think of him everyday. Whenever I'm in a bind I ask myself, "What would Daddy do?" A lot of people know my Dad lived his life full of integrity. There was no gray area for him. That's why many feared him when their cases ended up in his sala. 

That was the serious side of my Dad. A lot of neighbors would come over to seek his counsel. Not only for legal matters, but they also went to him for marriage/family counselling. Daddy was a true family man and he spent a lot of time with me when I was growing up. I remember the weekly dates at Lingnam in Glorietta. He really loved their beef noodles. Movie dates. And he indulged my interest in music. He bought my first Michael Jackson tape. 

When Daddy started to have grandchildren, he had a treehouse built at the back of our house. We had a huge, sturdy mango tree back then. He was at his happiest when the kids were all home. He'd bring them swimming and would start water gun fights. He told them wartime stories and how he grew up in the province. He wanted them to experience many different things, much like how I grew up. The treehouse served as a symbol of all those happy memories. 

The grandkids having fun. They're all grown up now.

The treehouse eventually had to be taken down. The mango tree also died because of a typhoon. When Daddy got sick I asked permission from work to be with him everyday. I'd walk over at 3 in the afternoon and stay with him until Sweetie picked me up. I usually brought my laptop and show him photos and videos to keep his mind away from the pain. I remembered the treehouse today because a friend is planning to build one. Daddy used his knowledge and intelligence to help many people, but to me he made sure I'd grow up with a good foundation to experience life to the fullest. 

Love you Dad, please continue watching over us. 

CB///*Yr2/39  #StuckAtHomeDay/Yr2/66 #StayHome #BeKind

Daddy's Retrospect

Nine years ago I lost my Dad and I miss him every single day. I've always been Daddy's little girl since everyone would say I look more like him than my Mom. I always rejected that thought because I always wanted to look like my Mom. Eventually though I realized I'm probably the best mix of both of them among us (haha). I could claim that because I'm the youngest and can always flash my "youngest privilege" with my siblings (hrhrhr).

A few years ago my Mom gave me Daddy's Retrospect. It was a note he wrote in Naga City on May 19, 1959 at 2 in the afternoon. It was his 26th birthday and here's what he wrote on the first page -

"Today is my birthday - my 26th birthday - so I found it convenient to look back in retrospect and retrace the steps that I have taken so far. 

"This therefore is a re-examination. The question uppermost in my mind is who am I? What am I worth? Where did I come from and where am I (sic) going?" 

He wrote the retrospect in a small notepad. The 15-pages traced back where he came from and the struggles the family went through after Nanay passed away. My grandfather, Tatay, was the buntal magnate of Quezon at that time. Exporting to Hong Kong and Japan, unfortunately he was duped by a partner so he lost everything. The family then moved from Lucban to Surigao, but because they were being chased by the Japanese they went back to Lucena via batil. Dad completed his education because of his sister, Tita Emer who took care of him after Nanay passed away.

At the end of his retrospect my Dad said that he missed Nanay very much, but his sweetheart had become his guiding light. In the end he said that at that point he was still nobody, but he noted that he would strive to help farmers since that's what he had always wanted to do. And he did. My Mom has told us stories that when they were newly married and my Dad was a young lawyer he'd help farmers. They always received farm goods in their doorsteps as payment for his services.

My Mom gave me Daddy's retrospect because she probably thought I'd need it the most (plus I'm the only one who understands my Dad's handwriting!). Looking back now I could say that my Dad definitely became someone. He is respected by many. Even until now I would hear people talk about him and they would think of how he would resolve an issue (like What would Joe do?). My Dad navigated his life where he always wanted it to go - to be of service to many.

Dad said in his retrospect that no one would really understand how hard it is to lose a parent at a very young age. In the last few days before he passed away he told my Mom that Nanay was picking him up already. He said he was finally happy to be reunited with Nanay. I understand Dad's pain because it's the same pain I carry since I lost him.

I miss you Dad. I know it's not a coincidence that your retrospect magically showed up today. You are reminding me to remember where I really want to be. Perhaps it's also time for me to write a retrospect for myself and share this retrospect to your grandchildren. Please watch over us up there and say hello to Tito Ben since I found one of his notes to me also! <3 <3

For Dad

Dad, you've been gone for four years now. I remember the day that Mom said you were very sick and that the doctor said it was just a matter of time. You had been suffering in silence for a couple of months. Refusing to go to a doctor and you kept saying you were fine. It was Mom who finally forced you to go for a check-up and by then it was already too late. I was inconsolable that day. I just cried and cried.

I had asked permission then from my manager if I could work earlier hours so I could get off early and walk 100 meters from my home to sit with you in the afternoons until Jay would pick me up to go home. We would watch TV and I would show you photos from my trips. You were always interested in the tomes of content I would put out (yes I know you used to ready my diary as well!). You wrote non-stop and that inspired me to "study writing". I know I'm not as talented a writer as you are or your apo, Miguel, but I strived to learn how to write because of you. It's Kuya though who's managed to publish books and not me (but I think I'm a better writer than he is hahaha).

Watching you lose your strength through Christmas and undergo so much pain signaled to us that we had to let you go so you won't suffer any longer. You held on when I had to leave for a week-long trip to Singapore because I told you to wait for me. And wait for me you did. Mom said that in your last few days you kept calling out to Nanay and Tatay. They had been trying to pick you up already, but you held on and waited.

You were doing quite well days before you passed. Mom said you just kept sleeping and even told her on the 19th night of January that she should get some sleep and rest. You passed away in your sleep. After Mom called me we rushed to the house to check on you. You still had a slight pulse when I arrived. I hope you heard me say "I love you Dad" just before your pulse dwindled and stopped. It was the most heartbreaking moment of my entire life.

Mom was very much composed. I was a huge mess, but I had to be the one to break the news to my siblings. I thought it was unfair that I had to do that since I'm after all your youngest child, your padaba, your latak. You brought me up to be a tough cookie though and you always told me to be strong and hold on to what is most important.

I cry a little every single day Dad because I miss you very much. It happens at the most random places, but I manage to hide the paid well because that's what you taught me. I would've probably made a good lawyer as you wanted me to be, but I'm too much of a scatterbrain to be one and it would've hard to fill the shoes you've left as a lawyer.

Thank you Dad for loving me, for being patient with me, for being strict so that I may learn, for being stern so I will become tough, for bringing me to all those tagalog movies and for accompanying me to watch Menudo even though you had to cover your ears all night. I would never have it differently, but I should have asked God to extend your life after your first bout with cancer until after you get your first great-grandson from Miguel and not only until you manage to walk me down the aisle. I honestly thought I wasn't going to marry anymore so I made that deal with God (well He had other plans apparently).

I miss you Dad. I know you are having a grand time with Tito Tony, Tito Mon and Tito Ben up there. Please say hi to my grandparents and all my friends who have gone up there to party with you. Please watch over us as we fulfill our mission down here. <3

40 Days Without Dad

It's been 40 days since my Dad passed away and the oldies say that we should celebrate it like a birthday party. The party is likely to happen at my Kuya's home (he's in Jakarta) because that's where my Mom is right now. I've requested for masses for Dad here in our Parish and I'll just prepare a yummy dinner for the boys later.

I thought I'd celebrate this day by remembering some important lessons I learned from my Dad.

On being stubborn. My brother-in-law says that we're a stubborn lot. My Dad's very stubborn too. When he's mind is set on something, nothing can really change his mind. I am the same, but I learned something when I was young -- sometimes you need to listen to reason. Read my funniest childhood memory to understand.

On curiosity. Ang batang malikot, nakakadampot ng ipot. When I was a kid I'd poke on anything that catches my attention. I learned to be very observant first before grabbing whatever caught my fancy. I learned that lesson because I literally poked on chicken poop. (It was really shiny and I thought it was a really nice stone!).

(That's me when I was a baby. A lot of people say that I look more like my Dad than my Mom. Even Picasa thinks so because it sorts me with my Dad's photos!)

On heartaches. My Dad was never emo. He thought that dwelling on emo stuff was a waste of time and he'd prod me to work harder instead. It works for me and I guess that's the reason why the past 40 days have really been exhausting (and productive).

On loving. My Dad's love for my Mom is a testament that true love exists. One of his college friends from the Ateneo said, "You're Dad is so mabait. Walang bisyo, never nambabae, kaya ayan nauna na siya sa amin!" That's when I understood why my Dad was always home before sunset. His priority was our family and he was always there for us.

(I remember this photo very well. I usually play this game with my Dad -- hide Daddy's slippers! I loved the sea and it was really difficult to get me out of the water, but my Dad always stayed with me.)

In my work uniform here with Dad. My Dad likes to have his photo taken, 

so we have a number of similar photos hehehe.  

On writing. It was my Mom who started me on writing, but it's my Dad who's the writer in our family. He can churn out more articles than me (and handwritten!). My Dad also showed so much interest in my writing. I remember catching him read my diary and some of my school projects! (And that's why my diary turned electronic haha). I hope to be able to write a book like my Dad someday.

On cooking. It was hard to be Dad's cooking apprentice. He never measured anything! It's like he had magical hands because anything he cooked tasted really good. He just told me to be generous with salt, pepper, garlic and onions.

We both had parties to go to when we had this photo taken. He just

decided to stop dye-ing his hair. It's his "Moses look" haha.

On your mission. My Dad said that each one of us have our own mission here on earth. In his last days my Dad mentioned that his mission has been completed and he has turned everything over to Mama Mary. We don't know exactly what he meant, but my Dad fought for the life of the unborn child. He made a paper on it that was submitted by the Knights of Columbus to CBCP (details are in his book). It's really amazing to see that the projects my Dad did when he lived helped a lot of people and I hope to be the same too.

I miss you Dad, but I know someday we'll be together again.

For Daddy

I read this eulogy during the necrological services of the Knights of Columbus last Friday for their charter Grand Knight (my Dad). During the ceremony I was bequeathed a Philippine Flag. They said that it is what my father would have wanted, to ensure that his advocacies both for country and church will go on. Well Dad, you do have gigantic shoes to fill, but I will do my best.

I am posting this now because my Dad just visited me by playing the video of "The 3 Little Pigs" on my PC. It seems he wants me to move on and start working already.

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My Dad was a superstar and he made sure each one us, his children, would become superstars as well. My sister, Ate Nats, topped the chemical engineering board exam. My brother, Kuya Jojo, is a very successful expat in Jakarta. And me, I am privileged to work for an international company.

My Dad in his younger years was a celebrity basketball player in Ateneo de Naga. I heard that his shooting record is yet to be beaten. A lot of girls were after him, but he only had his mind and heart set on my Mom. And we were lucky because my Dad spent every moment of his life for his family.

I've always been a Daddy's little girl. When I was a kid my Dad would always bring me out on dates. We'd head to Luk Yuen at Quad (Glorietta wasn't around yet) and he'd always order noodles and siopao. During that time I only liked eating the siopao skin my Dad would peel off from the siopao. There would be days that we'd go to Dayrit's and I always ordered what I believed were giant cheeseburgers. At home my I only eat crab if my Dad opens it up for me and he'd put gata on my rice with a bit of calamansi. He would also add the soup from the nilaga with some toyo on my rice so I'd eat more (I was very thin when I was a kid). I remember those dates vividly to this day. Oh and he always bought me lollipops and cotton candy.

My Dad's love for me is bottomless despite the fact that I have let him down countless of times. He was very strict and the only time I lost my curfew was when I got accepted in my current job (I was 30 already!). I thought it was really unfair and I rebelled many, many times, but my Dad has always been there for me and I'm really glad that he is my Dad. I would not have it any other way.

Here are some of the most important lessons I learned from him:

1. be service-oriented

My Dad's a homebody. The extra time he had he spent serving God and others. I was a kid when Mom and Dad were helping out in building the Parish church. I remember tagging along in countless number of meetings. I always wondered how Dad managed to help so many people. He helped an innocent prisoner go free. And he always spoke up on issues whenever something was wrong. He said we should not keep quiet whenever there is injustice.

Dad also focused on specific advocacies and he wrote about these advocacies with much passion. I would say that his lifelong work which includes his fight for the unborn child can be found in his book. In the last year even though he was physically weak he focused on distributing this book to people in government and people with influence. And that goes to show that it is in my Dad's heart to continue serving others even when he is gone.

2. be humble and have integrity

My Dad was never boastful. I only found out that he was a basketball superstar from his high school classmates. And mind you he was also always on honor roll, their high school salutatorian and magna cum laude in college. I only found out about that because I oftentimes leafed through his high school and college yearbooks. What my Dad wanted us to do is just to get the job done and make sure we do it right.

My Dad was incorruptible. I learned the lesson on integrity when I was just 12. I had a classmate in St. Scho, who's by the way a congresswoman now, who had a PhP200 daily allowance and my baon back then was just ten pesos. I asked my Dad why my baon was so small compared to my classmate. I asked him, “Dad, ganun ba kayaman mga mayor?” And my Dad then explained to me all about corruption. He always reminded us that a good name is far more important than material wealth.

3. live simply

My Dad always told us that his only pamana to us is our education and he made sure that all three of us got the best education and that's why he enrolled all of us in De La Salle University and not his alma mater (which is Ateneo). And because all of us valued what he said we all got a Masters in Business Administration.

One thing I also made an impression on me was Dad's “Share a Family” project where you'd have to prepare and share a meal with a less fortunate family. It was truly an eye opener to share one's blessings with others. I hope that this is something that my Titos at the Knights of Columbus can continue.

4. Family first

Family came always first with my Dad. In all of my 35 years I never saw him go out just to make lakwatsa. Whenever there was a gathering with his friends, he'd ask either my Mom or me to go with him – para raw makauwi siya ng maaga. He was always home before sunset and inasmuch as I took that for granted, I only realized later on that other Dads weren't like that.

We were on our own with our studies, but my Dad always lent a helping hand whenever I had questions. I oftentimes sought his help for assignments in Filipino and my law classes back in college. Dad taught us to always think outside of the box. To always see beyond what was on the news. To always ask questions. And we had lessons on politics every day during dinner.

Dad left management of the house to Mom, except the kitchen. Dad always came up with really delicious dishes and I only learned how to cook some of it when I got married. You see, my Dad never opened a recipe book to cook. He was a talented cook and he cooked for us and Mom for 50 years.

Daddy was the disciplinarian. He would rarely get mad, pero ang style niya eh he'll ask Mom to do the first-level sermon. Makuha ka sa tingin. He was strict, but only because he wanted what was best for us and he wanted us to be safe. A lot of my friends used to be scared of him, what they didn't know though is my Dad is the corniest joker around and he'd only sing two songs – the “kamote song” and a funny Japanese song. Oh, and my Dad was extremely ticklish and we all got that from him. Later on though my Dad mellowed down and my friends eventually treated him like their Dad too.

5. And finally, give your trust to the Lord and everything will follow

This is the most important lesson that Dad taught all of us and was his central message during my wedding. I always asked him before how he and my Mom managed their marriage and he just said that all throughout the years they just lifted everything to God and all the problems and issues were ironed out on its own. We were truly blessed as a family because of their faith in God.

Before I end this sharing I'd like to thank my Dad for all the love and care he gave me, Ate and Kuya and my Mom. For standing in as father figure for Miguel. I will never forget what you taught me Dad. You have a huge pair of shoes that's going to be hard to fill in, but we will try our best to deliver the mission that has been given to us. And do not worry because we will take care of Mom.

Thank you Dad and I love you very much.

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Thank you to everyone who stayed with us during this time of grief and thank you for your prayers.

To Tito Pete, Tita Dolly, Tita Dena, Tita Gay, Tita Helen, Tito Mel, thank you so much for coming to our rescue. Mom and I had no idea what to do when the doctor declared Daddy's demise. And to Tita Letty for the support and making sure we always had food during the wake.

To my SVMM family, for being there and for singing such beautiful songs for Daddy. I'm sure you made him smile.

To the Knights of Columbus Council 7806, thank you for the tribute and the necrological service. I hope my Dad's legacy would live on with your projects.

To my Daddy's Ateneo classmates and friends, thank you for sharing such lovely stories of my Dad when he was young. He oftentimes told me about how you guys drew lots on who's going to go first. Dad was supposed to be the last, but as Tito Ed said, "Your Dad didn't have any vice or affairs. Masyado siya mabait."

To my sisters golden high school classmates, thank you for standing in for my Ate. I guess 15 years from now we'll be doing the same for our batch. And my SSC friends too, thank you for the alalay.

To the Passionist fathers, thank you especially to Fr. Luis who anointed and gave the eucharist to Dad just before he passed.

To the Sun Valley Homeowners Association and Barangay Sun Valley, thank you too. Please take care of our park, that it may continue to be our community's "lungs".

To Jun Lozada, thank you for coming, the fight will go on.

To my best friend, Darwin. Thank you for flying in from Cebu and just being there. And to Anne and Harry, for coming too. My blogger friends, for keeping us company and the kwentos.

To our relatives, neighbors and friends, my Dad's former colleagues, thank you for your support and prayers. 

Daddy's Gone to Heaven

My father, (Former) Judge Jose T. Apolo, passed away last night at the age of 77.

His remains lie at the St. Gabriel Hall, Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary Parish in Sun Valley, Paranaque.

Update:
Interment will be on January 23, 2011, Sunday after the 9 a.m. mass at the St. Gabriel Hall. His remains will be brought to Manila Memorial Park (Paranaque) right after.

St. Gabriel Hall


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