From Ariel to Triton: Conversations with Tatay

My Tatay and I did not see each other for more than 12 years and I dearly missed him.

While memories of childhood remain as vivid like they just happened yesterday, it was the good ones that I kept flashing my torch on. And that was what I carried with me when I visited him and my three other siblings.

My Tatay had a heart attack and was scheduled to go through two major heart operations. At 80 years old.

When I knew about his condition on New Year’s Day of 2008, I knew I had to do everything in my power to see him. Kahit pa bali-baligtarin ko ang mundo, basta magkita lang kami ng Tatay ko.

So I made sure. And I know it was not going to be that easy. Being a Filipino, one knows how difficult it is to apply for a visa to a first-world country. I have been refused once by the same consulate so I prepared for the worst. Apparently, on the same day I applied, I got me my visa.

And next thing I knew, I was there standing in front of my Tatay while he was lying in his hospital bed looking back at his bunso. And without saying a word, we knew that we were satisfied just by looking at each other. Finally, we have met again.

Feisty Tatay

My Tatay lived through two major heart operations. Sabi nga ng mga duktor: Tatay is a fighter. He made sure he will survive this one.

And he made me proud. Tatay ko eh.

And maybe that’s what I got from him – his feistiness, his desire for life.

When he knew about my activism, he did not say a word. Whenever we would talk over the phone, he would ask how I was and he would start going on talking about what he was cooking, what telenovela he was watching and how the pears are growing in big numbers at the backyard.

I would talk about my overnights at a workers’ strike while he would brag about his delicious won tons. He knew that I could take care of myself. And while I knew he was worried sick about me, he would not dare have me feel even a tinge of it. My father gave me that freedom to do what I want. And he believed in me.

Maraming Tatay

Once, we had a lengthy talk about the people I have met through activism.

I began by blurting out a secret: I have many fathers. Upon hearing, his forehead knotted and he asked me how that could have happened.

I happily answered. My activism brought me to many homes. Of farmers. Of workers. Of poor people. Of indigenous men and women. All of whom welcomed me and treated me like one of their kin.

I told my Tatay that despite their situation, they have been the most generous fathers and mothers I have met. The stories they tell about the sacrifices they have made for their children always break my heart. But their stories of struggle and involvement keep it strong.

It is this wellspring of optimism that a better life awaits their children and their children’s children from the struggles that they make that keep me going. Parang motolite. Parang Energizer batteries. Parang haplos ni Inay.

Halfway through my story, I saw my Tatay looking outside the window but listening intently. Out of the blue, he snickered and said: “Isa ka nga sa sakit ng ulo ni Gloria. Kahit ilang medicol inumin nya, hindi mawawala.”

Looking Forward

My Tatay and I have outlived our differences. We embrace our similarities and accept the things that neither of us can change – like the distance we have between us, the life I have chosen and that piece of equipment embedded in his heart. Agimat nya daw yan kaya di mawawala.

When we parted ways, I carried a heavy heart but he told me to take heed. Marami naman daw akong Tatay at marami pang magiging tatay. At sana maging tatay daw ako.

I answered back: You are right. With the struggle, we will never run out of fathers. And mothers.

You are the inspiration for my being. And for what I do. And why I do it.

When you turned my fins into feet, you let me choose freely the way I want to use them.

And I can safely and proudly say, Tatay, I did.