Memories of Papa

Today I needed to do a lot of follow ups before I can leave the country and be in the Philippines. But my mind is blank as if there is nothing there to do..but just be and everything will be taken care of! I have this sense of calmness within me and my soul seems to be traveling beyond space and time. I already am beside my Papa sitting beside him and touching his forehead.

My childhood memories started pouring out like rain in the storm..why storm? When I was growing up we love singing and dancing in the stormy rain of Asia. As soon as the rain hits the ground we are out there with friends and running all over the neighborhood. This is my childhood days and I love reflecting back because it gives me a sense of spontaneity about what life is supposed to be joyful fun and love.

One of my fondest memory about my father is when he sings for the family of ten children and relatives who are dwelling among us. He sings for my Mama and the song is called "Ramona" that's her name. He adores and loves her, my Papa loves to dance with her and I loved watching them dance around the halls of our huge old Spanish house. He was an actor in his teenage years, but did not pursue his career that way, he ended up to be an Immigration officer in the Airport. I remember him bringing me all kinds of animals when they confiscated them from travelers, he will take them home and I look forward having them as pets:)

He never lays hand on us, very kind and sweet. I loved sitting on his lap and asking him to sing for me and I will sing along with him.."It's a sin to tell a lie!" We lived very close to the Pacific ocean and as a little girl I loved going there everyday, collect shells, bring them home and give them to my Papa..I usually pinched his nose and tell him his nose looks like a shell.

He was a First Aid Attendee in World War 2 and tells me stories about his battle between life and death in Bataan, it was called the "Death March". How he managed to survive and ask God to give him one more day to live and see his family. He was my nurse, I still have this vivid picture of him crushing anti-biotic and putting them in my leg wounds as I was like a boy running around the fields.

This is my Papa, singer, dancer, handsome, kind, loving, generous, lover of wine and women:), and one thing more.. when we were born all 10 of us, he would take our placenta and burry it in the ground with a book. He said this signifies that we will have knowledge and the love of books. I just love how he thinks, love and sing for my soul..I love you Papa, you had taught me what forgiveness truly means and I have forgiven you for your weaknesses because through your weakness I found my strength and courage to be a voice of the sexually abused women. Now that you are there lying in your deathbed one thing I ask God is to give you love and say "you have done well!'

Thank you for bringing me out here in this beautiful world that we have, with all my heart, soul and being, you are my Papa!