It is exactly one month today that I have updated this blog. Blame it all on R who has been making my blood pressure soaring with his teasing and depriving me of quiet nights with his snoring. =)
BUT, another man is getting the attention on this blog. To continue…
Every time I have to make major decisions in my life, I always think of what my father would say and what kind of questions he would be asking. I would run through a list and find out if I had an answer. My father is Mr. Cynical. He doesn’t trust anyone even his relatives. He could have been a court judge in his previous life. My siblings and my mom would tease me for being the only one who share his blood type. We are both B+. This irks me because my dad is a person with a major attitude problem. If there is a way to change blood types, I would have done it sooner. I pray each day that if I grow old I wouldn’t want to grow old like him. He is sensitive, cranky, insensitive most of the time and he rants without ceasing. He could rant the whole day about food preparations. He is a spend thrift too. (Something I definitely did not take from him – although he says I am worst than him.)
He is the 10th of 11 children. He did not have an easy life in Bohol. He lived with a sister who helped raised him. The siblings were separated and did not live in one house. One sibling took care of 1 or 2 other sibling. He came to Cebu on a scholarship with the University of the Visayas playing basketball on the varsity team. His basketball days were his glory days. I grew up looking at several albums that had photos of him in basketball jerseys and girls in close proximity. After college, he worked with Coca Cola and we had a good supply of softdrinks around the house. We had to support all brands of San Miguel. It was a sin to drink Pepsi because we were raised from an SMC payroll check. He has retired for some years now and plays tennis instead. Because of his early sports training, he watches his diet, he plays tennis 3 times a week and would strictly follow a sleeping time regimen. I understand his frustration seeing both of her daughters in the obese and overweight division.
We fondly call him ’surikbot’. A term for a person who makes sure someone else’s life is as miserable as theres or worst even. When I was in grade 5, he brought me to one of the beauty parlors and instructed the lady to make my hair curly. (and yes my hair was wavy and that was not enough?). I was crying the whole time and I did not want to go to school. I actually looked like a fairer version of the jackson 5 group. He made me wear jumpers to church. The kind where it was reversible. Stripes one sunday, violet the next sunday. I hated that dress and wanted so much to burn it. (a photo taken of me on this outfit magically disappeared and you won’t see any proof of my curly doo)
He makes our lives miserable and yet we can’t stop talking about him. He has an endearing and a funny character to him. He colors his picture with a black pen over his head to cover his baldness (before he framed it). He dyes his hair and steals towels from resorts. He has kept his old basketball jerseys, old coca cola uniforms, old shoes and other antique memorabilias which fills his cabinet leaving no more room for the clothes he actually uses. He hates being reminded of old age and a thinning hairline. Everytime he sings, a relative of his dies. And his favorite karaoke piece is “My way”. He eats breakfast, plays solitaire and poker by himself at our living room while flipping channels between Discovery Channel, Cartoon Network and CNN. On tennis matches or boxing bouts, no other channel is viewed. He eats lunch, then sleep and does the TV routine or play tennis after.
I remember Pabling on Father’s day. No matter how I hate his eccentricities, I can’t be not his daughter. When my own children makes up their mind on one thing, I have questions ready to sway them to the other side. And they say, Mom – you are just like daddylo. Its in the blood they say.
