DAD, I MISS YOU

The red and the orange color of the horizon is getting deeper as the sun hides on its nest in the west, the blueness of the sky is fading and the once mighty ray of the sun finally surrender to the cloud as it kneel to kiss the ground, then all we can see as he goes down are his reflections and then finally gone...
Its getting dark. soon the face of a tired old man who came from his work tilling his field, working endlessly from early morning till sun down as long his eyes can see, will finally get home. the smell of what he wear is a smell of his sweat, burned and dried by the sun, the palm of his feet bared from his childhood has become cracked and thicker with calluses which protects him from small thorns and sharp stones. His arm is like a rock and though his muscles are not big they evolved into a mighty machine skillfully doing right his work. As he wash his hands the color of the water turn dark from the mud which are stuck on his nails and lines of his palm, then without a towel he will dry them to a shirt he wore before. Being tired from work, the only thing he will do to clean up is to wash his face and his done. Then when supper is serving, there he smiles just like a kid given a lollipop. He never complain what’s on the table, a rice with a piece of dried fish there he was contented, lucky for him if he has one ,because having a big family means many mouth to fill in and he makes it that before he takes a bite everybody has his share...and this is my dad.
I have known him since I was a kid, his dedication to his work is without question, from dawn to sunset everyday without a day off or a holiday, he works tilling the field, planting crops, herding his carabao which are his main servants and workmate in almost every work he was doing in the farm. He works relentlessly under the heat of the sun or under the cold shower of the rain, minding not if he will got sick just to make it sure that he will have a harvest as days will past by. Then after days and months of hard labor, then the much awaited harvest came, the once punishing sight of man and animals tilling the ground will turn into a joy of harvest time, this is the time where many friends and neighbors will come to have some little share, and my dad is so generous to give a share. This is the time when all the painstaking days of work and the days of almost having no food to eat is over and will not be remembered and all what you can see on every faces and eyes are joy and assurance that for many days there will be food enough for us, but for my dad you will see on him the joy and the fulfillment of reaping his good labor and the worries and the pain of seeing your family barely eat well is somehow being relieved at least for the meantime.

The routine of this hard work which he bears since he was a kid is like the pattern of the sun that keeps on going each day. As my old folks tells me about how my dad ends up with this kind of life, the bold fact of poverty enters as his very reason why he never finish even the elementary grades. At an early age he was exposed to farm works helping my grand folks do the work in the field preparing the field to plant rice and sugarcane, he spends his early years molded and shaped to do this peasant job, knowing everything through the guided eyes of my grandfather. I know how expert he was and I admire him very much, even though as my perspective and reason is concern I don’t like ending up being a farmer like him.

You know being a farmer in the Philippines is not as lucrative and promising as it was in other country like America or Europe where government support and subsidies flows for their farmers. Being a farmer here is different especially if you do not own the land you till. Ever since farmers are using the old ways of farming with the help of their domesticated animals like the water Buffalo or carabao as we call it. Only can afford land owners have the access the used of farm machineries, lucky for you if you can afford one. As for my dad being a tenant, he will rather wake up and work early to save the money instead of renting these machines. Therefore using the money instead for our food and other expenses, I just can’t remember how many times we eat a decent meal, how many times we skip breakfast or lunch or dinner because we have no money to buy food, and many times we have resort to an antiquated innovated lamp to have lights at nights because our electric service was cut off for months of not paying the bill. This is our life realities which I experience since childhood.

We are ten in the family, my parent and their eight children, I was the sixth among them, and no one also among my elder brothers and sister have finished school ending up in the field work also, when I was a kid probably seven or eight years old back then as I remember I began helping them doing the same, particularly in taking care of the animals, and I can’t forget how many times I fell right from the back of the carabao I am riding while feeding them in the grassy field or on our way back home, I got also some marks right beside my eyes next to my eyebrows a remembrance which I will never forget in all my life when I was accidentally hit by the horns by the carabao, it’s like being box by Tyson and you got knockdown. I wake up my face bleeding and kind a drowsy from the hit, the next thing I know my dad is putting some herbal leaves on my cut and it’s painful.

My dad is a kind of an ignoring or never cares attitude type of person if you make a shallow impression on him; this is how I see him when I was at high school and in college. I just don’t understand back then how hard life really is for them at that point in time. Many times I got this feeling of resentment to him of not being able to give us at least a life much better than we were back then, many times I walk my way to school more than five kilometers away and go home doing the same. I can’t hide my envy specially when I see my classmates have this and have that, I oftentimes walk off from them at recess time seeing them eating their snacks and I don’t. And mind you I can’t remember in high school if my mom bought me a nice brand new white t-shirt as my uniform, I always end up having t-shirt given by somebody, lucky for me if I have a pair of shoes, shirts and pants. I remember onetime during my second year in high school, I was walking along the hall when one of my shoe sole fell off exposing the sole and fingers of my feet, such an embarrassment I will never forget, then I step on that sole dragging it as I walk my way, out from the school.

I was in my third year in college braving this poverty hoping that one day I will graduate and finally land a good job, when unfortunately the never heard Mt. Pinatubo volcano erupts. The farm my dad is tilling was covered and destroyed by flowing pyroclastic destroying everything my dad has done, our house was not spared along with the whole community houses and even takes several neighbors we have known, that up this time their remains is still lying buried in millions tons of sand and rocks that covered our place for nearly thirty years since the incident in the year 1991, such a horrible nightmare.

The after effect of the eruption was strenuously felt by everyone, houses, I mean big and good houses were destroyed, the only investment of those people working in Clark Air Base, the famous big American base in Asia, build from their separation pay when American forces was obliged to leave because of the eruption and the ending of the contract of these bases in the Philippine government. And now Americans are gone so the works and money are gone also, I saw how hard life is, here in Pampanga during this crucial transition, many resort to looting inside the abandon base and many resort to flesh trade as you call it for sexual business.

I was obliged to quit my college and find work to help again the family in this time of need. I know how it is for my dad and how it really affects him is the thing I never ask him because even he will not tell it, at my age I understand now more the facts of life, and I am so sorry for my Dad. Things and time then began to take its mark on my father, as he gets old he began to show the symptoms of what he should reap for along time of exposure to the elements of nature. He became sickly, bedridden for week or more because of inflammation of his feet due to arthritis, he has to be given a pain reliever to ease the excruciating pain he is now suffering. He develops a case of hypertension, gout problems and all the side effect and complication of these cases. His skin became scaly due to schirosis which makes him itchy all the time, he used to scratch and do scratch again and again to feel the ease, but left unchecked it will turn to red and then blister which makes him smell unpleasant.

At the year 2006 just before his death, they manage to be with me along with my new family in our house. I was so happy that in the little way that I can at least I can payback the things my good old Dad has done for me. I am quite a funny guy and knowing that my dad likes to speak English I always speak with him with that language, and he appreciate it, I know coz I make him laugh so loud and put a smile on his face. He likes meat and liver very much, so often times I serve him that, knowing that it aggravates his gout arthritis but we can’t do nothing about it, he always ask for meat or he will not eat otherwise.

Just before the day of his departure, my elder brother managed to convince him to stay in his house, that day is a sad day for me because I know the day my dad will leave my house at that condition there’s no more days left for him, and as they carry him, for now he cannot walk, the pain of loosing my Dad crept inside my heart and I can’t help it but cry, I cried like I have never did before, remembering so much about his memory that I will never, never forget as long as I live.

My dad died on August 7, 2006 at my brothers house due to old age and of his sickness, he was 78 years old when he died, the doctor declared his cause of death as cardiac arrest, he slept quietly just like when he slept when he was a baby, but now he will not ask for milk, he will not call my mom to scratch his back and take away ants biting his flaking skin, there is no more pain to bear, no problems to be bothered with, no more tears for hurt feelings, for the mighty sun has gone to his nest, and the ray of his light rarely seen in the sky, the dark clouds covers him as he kiss the ground…and all you can see are his reflections and then…gone. Farewell sun, farewell Dad and thank you… and Dad I really miss you!





I write this blog in memory of my Dad, Mr. Arsenio Maglalang who passed away on August 7, 2006…again thank you



arnoldream@yahoo.com