On January 12, 1954, a bouncing baby was born into this world. He came as the sixth child from a brood of ten. He was the most favored son by his doting parents. He grew up humbly in the rural agricultural town of Trinidad, Bohol. Twenty-three years later, he would become my father.
When I was eight or nine, my loving father gathered me and my four younger siblings in our living room to record songs on cassette tape. He played his guitar while I belted out ‘We are the World’ by Michael Jackson and “Mutya Ka Baleleng” by Max Surban. Then my sister and brothers hummed to Freddie Aguilar’s songs. Until now, that cassette tape remains an unrivaled highlight in our family gatherings as well as an ultimate source of never-ending family jokes.
My father is a musician at heart. He reads musical notes, conducts a chorale, and plays musical instruments such as piano, guitar, and harmonica. He leads an all-male group named MIGS that sings on weddings. I grew up listening to their wonderful voices. (MIGS was the choir at my wedding. They serenaded me with Petula Clark’s ‘You and I’ while I walked down the aisle which really made my childhood dream came true.)
Since the day I learned to be aware of things, he already imposed strictness unto me – in a good way, of course. He disciplined me to be responsible and prudent. He trained me to be self-reliant and upright. He encouraged me to read and be informed. He taught me how to be humble and generous. He supported my interests. He listened to my whines. He gave me comforts. Most of all, he showered me an unconditional love.
Today is his 55th birthday. We talked on the phone a while ago and I told him how much I love him. I heard his voice cracked as he told me he loves me too. At this point, I feel that I am the luckiest because I have the best father one could ever ask for.
When I was eight or nine, my loving father gathered me and my four younger siblings in our living room to record songs on cassette tape. He played his guitar while I belted out ‘We are the World’ by Michael Jackson and “Mutya Ka Baleleng” by Max Surban. Then my sister and brothers hummed to Freddie Aguilar’s songs. Until now, that cassette tape remains an unrivaled highlight in our family gatherings as well as an ultimate source of never-ending family jokes.
My father is a musician at heart. He reads musical notes, conducts a chorale, and plays musical instruments such as piano, guitar, and harmonica. He leads an all-male group named MIGS that sings on weddings. I grew up listening to their wonderful voices. (MIGS was the choir at my wedding. They serenaded me with Petula Clark’s ‘You and I’ while I walked down the aisle which really made my childhood dream came true.)
Since the day I learned to be aware of things, he already imposed strictness unto me – in a good way, of course. He disciplined me to be responsible and prudent. He trained me to be self-reliant and upright. He encouraged me to read and be informed. He taught me how to be humble and generous. He supported my interests. He listened to my whines. He gave me comforts. Most of all, he showered me an unconditional love.
Today is his 55th birthday. We talked on the phone a while ago and I told him how much I love him. I heard his voice cracked as he told me he loves me too. At this point, I feel that I am the luckiest because I have the best father one could ever ask for.
Happy birthday, Tatay Chito!
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