Homage to My Father

He was larger than life. With his booming voice and a most self assured stance, he incited both fear and awe. Nobody else more than him could move me to tears and to laughter in a mere space of seconds.

It has not been an easy life with this man that I call my father. Special circumstances in our lives would not allow me to see him constantly or on a regular basis. His comings and goings would be announced with the next phone call and schedules had to be re-adjusted, plans had to be changed. It frustrated me to no end. But at the same time, it would also fill me with excitement. Seeing him would mean being able to embrace him, show him new things I learned in school, tell him of the new experiences I had. It would also mean a wait for his stamp of approval. To hear him tell me that he was proud of me and that he loved me.

As a child, I didn’t quite understand the conditions of our existence. My young mind was beleaguered with questions that sought guidance and answers…answers that would not necessarily be offered nor given.

However, through the years, I had begun to accept that whatever circumstances or decisions that led us to shape the life we lived with him, he had never stopped being a real father to me. As much as our time spent together was restricted and limited, that did not hold him from giving me the necessary love and care to help me mold myself into the woman that I am now, in the way that he knew how and possibly can.

Life with Dad was not one smooth ride. The road was replete with twists and turns, of rising and falling. Inevitably, it would be punctuated with differing levels of pain, sometimes tolerable, at times punishing. But my father showed us how to use this pain to grow up equipped with such strength that whatever life brings us, we will be able to take. He made us see that by letting ourselves fall and crumble, we cultivate within us the strength to get up and continue our journey. Through the experiences we had and the wounds that marked us, my spirit grew into resiliency. The very same resiliency that will help me overcome my own battles in life.

In the same way, my father gave me my faith, the supreme power of belief. He gave me the unshakable knowledge that masked behind every suffering and every grief, lies the gift of grace. That every agony your heart goes through is an opportunity to grow and learn and thus, serves a higher purpose. And that it is our deep spiritual responsibility to seek out this purpose. He would always tell me that “There is no room in this world for mediocrity”, something that has always been ingrained in my head. I always thought that he was speaking of seeking out the best career I can have and rising up the professional ladder. Only now that I realize that he was talking about a much higher truth – that of being the best person you can be, in whatever realm. To try to constantly go beyond your limits of being good enough to that of striving for your own excellence, in all aspects of life – professional, personal and spiritual.

My father was a full embodiment of a paradox. He can be gentle and severe, frightening and lovable, humorous and solemn. He roused both fear and respect, stirred up both anger and compassion, incited both hate and love. It has taken me years to reconcile all these opposing feelings brought about by one single and the same person. It is not easy to understand for somebody whose mind was used to resisting rather than accepting.

But through doing my own work in finding my own spiritual maturity, I finally recognized my father’s most precious gift to me that will let me go beyond my limited understanding – that of giving unconditional love. He showed me that love is steadfast. That love pursues relentlessly, in spite of and despite of, the other person’s weaknesses. He showed me that when we open up ourselves to the full reality of the other person, minus all the image and expectations we hold, we unlock in us that most stunning ability to love wholly and unconditionally. And when this happens, we are presented with the amazing grace to forgive.

Forgiveness bridges the gap between two opposing emotions. In forgiving others, we are able to hold the other person in loving kindness. My father always taught me to believe in the basic goodness of people and that gives me the capacity to not give up on anyone who has hurt me. My heart remains open to hope. My relationship with others, therefore, becomes reconciliatory and not retaliatory.

My father died on March 8, 2010 at the age of 73, when I was thousands of miles away from him. As he wished to be laid to rest as quickly as possible, I was not able to neither have a last look at him nor whisper a last goodbye. He was already cremated when I got home. Amidst my grief, I console myself with the fact that I did not see him suffer. That when I think of him, I shall always hold an image of him that was alive and full of life.

As I write and pay tribute to his memory, I begin to unravel his real legacy to me, much more than any material things he left behind. And I see that he is not truly gone from my life. The values and teachings he had given me, I will strive to pass on to my daughter and my daughter’s children. In this way, my father will continue to live. He will continue to laugh. He will continue to love.

So long, Dad and see you on the other side.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” – 2 Timothy 4