Of a father's love

"Makit-an lang nako nga nakapaso namong duha sa stage, okay na kaayo nako nga matumba." It was a line, completely random, spat out by my father yesterday. He was drunk. And it came after my mother asked me "Kuya, maka-graduate ka? At least pakit-a mi nga makapaso naka. Okay na kaayo na namo."

My father is the best human being there is on this wretched planet. He was known to be the one putting smiles on other people's faces but I was witness to his grief. A grief for a father, a grief for a mother, and a grief for a brother. I saw him cry and I saw the child in him. I saw a child missing his father.

Wala'y igong mga pulong ang makabayad sa tanan niyang sakripisyo. Sa tanang paghuwat nako sa eskina hangtod alas onse sa gabii. Sa tanang pagsabot ug paghilom kung masapot ko. Sa tanang pagmata sayo sa buntag. Sa tanang paghatod nako sakay sa bisikleta niadtong elementary pa ko.

I was six. The event was UN Day. I am holding the flag of Algeria. And I was alone inside that big sports center. My mother was late. I panicked. Everyone else was already falling in line to be on stage. Mother didn't show up. The teacher prompted me that I'm next. I was silent. And crying. I was crying. I was six and I was crying, holding that Algerian flag. Then popped out my father. He was smiling. He was laughing at me crying. But I continued to cry. He didn't say anything. We got on stage, I waved my Algerian flag, said something silly about the country, and got off. He held my hand and walked near a photographer. It was the best picture I had with my father because that was the best smile I'd seen from him.

I was fifteen. It was a barrio fiesta. A cold night. A cold noisy night. My father was drunk. It was the month of my uncle's death anniversary. Father rode on his motorcycle and said "Akong apason akong igsuon." I was fifteen and naive. Then a lady rushed and said that my father fell off the road not far from our house. I rushed. I arrived at the scene filled with people, and not one of them helped my father. Bangin to siya, and I jumped off without thinking. I knelt beside my father, with blood all over his face. He was unconscious. I cried for help. Then an ambulance wailed. His head needed an operation. And for all the nights that my father was on the hospital, I cried. He became so thin and passive. By the time he got out, he was frail. But he recovered. My father was back.

I was nineteen. News of my grandmother's recent diagnosis welcomed me home from school. Stage four cancer. My father wept alone in his room. From that day on, he barely smiled.

Everybody else thought that my father is a man of jokes and satirical punches. No. He is a victim of a screwed up comedy.

Pa, mosaka ko sa stage. I'm sorry kung dili ko makahatag ug speech like I used to. Mosaka ko sa stage and I will shout "Pa, Ma, daghang salamat!" and I will invite you to come up and screw the graduation program because I want everyone to know that you are my father and I'm proud of you and from that day on I will be in charge and I will take care of you and buhaton nako tanan para makasukli sa tanan ninyong sakripisyo. From that day on, Pa, ayaw usa'g katumba. Daghan pa kaayo kong plano para ninyo ni mama. Ayaw usa.