Since my father’s recent passing is truly the inspiration for this blog, naturally, I dedicate my first post in honor of him.

My dad emigrated to the U.S. from the Philippines in the early 1970s.  He was the first and only member of his family to immigrate here.  His first stop was Chicago in the middle of winter where he worked for a small business as an accountant.  The brutal Chicago winter was a drastic shift from the tropics of the Philippines.  Daddy was miserable and almost returned to the Philippines.  Luckily, he decided to tough it out a little longer before pursing an opportunity to move to Austin, Texas.

It was in Austin that he made his first home away from home.  He soon met my mother – a Filipino nurse at the Austin State Hospital, fell in love, and got married.  I came along a little less than a year later and my little sister followed three and a half years behind me.

We were this small Filipino-American family with Daddy and Mommy working hard to realize “The American Dream” when tragedy struck.  Mommy, who was in and out of cancer remission, fell terminally ill in 1984.  She battled cancer for two years before succumbing to her illness in October 1986.  Her illness and death took its toll on Daddy.  Weary from grief and utter sadness, I wasn’t sure he would ever be relieved of his pain.

Three years later, Daddy found love again and re-married a year later, and he, my sister and I moved to Pearland, Texas.  A year after that, Daddy was blessed with a son.  Our family had grown and Daddy was happy again.  There was a lightness to him again, as though his pain was relieved and replaced with joy.

Throughout all of this, I was as much as a handful as I was any help to Daddy.  I lost my innocence through my mother’s illness and death.  I was angry and bitter, and I rebelled against and challenged my father every chance I could get.  Yet, as much as we pushed each others buttons, I never doubted for one second his love for me.  I kept pushing him away and he kept coming back – even more loving and caring than before.

I learned so much from my dad.  He taught me perseverance, determination, work ethic, honor and most importantly the unconditional love that comes with being a parent.  I’m grateful for every lesson he taught me, the thirty-nine years I shared with him, his laugh that still echoes when I think of him, that I’m so much like him, and that I let him know every chance I got that I loved him too.  More than anything, I’m grateful for his love that he imprinted on my soul and will stay with me forever.

I love you, Daddy, and I miss you so much.