Memories of My Dad

My dad on his 80th birthday

I have not been blogging for weeks because of a sad thing that happened last month, my Dad passed away.  I am not very close to him but he is a strong presence in my life. In my childhood I regarded him as a formidable character, always the pillar at my mom's side. Though I was much closer to my mother, I never realized a life without my dad, till now.  

I could not remember having a serious conversation with my dad though, probably because I am a menopause baby and that we have a large generation gap. I could recall going on some necessity trips to the provinces, with him at the driver's seat and I staying at the passenger side.  We usually stay silent or we had short talks that were frequently not sustained.  But one thing I remember was him humming or singing a tune while driving. My memory of his 'Mocking Bird's Hill' version ala Nat King Cole is still fresh and vivid. I probably could understand his love for music more because we share the same passion to sing as a pass time. 

In his last birthday celebration

When my Mom died a few years ago, we had some differences.  I never really got to know him outside of being the strict and serious father. But it appears that he had a side which was blind to me at least. 

In the past days I have learned that my dad lived a full and colorful life which mostly I did not see with my own eyes. I relived it in the stories, the memories of the numerous people who came to his wake and the others who talked to me about him after his death.  Some of them, I have not met before but they have recounted the same thing, my dad did what he wanted to be happy, without any regret.   I believe he did because he was happy till about the day he was called out of this world.  No, he was not living it large and luxuriously.  His joys are simple, driving, going around and at the end of the day, having some TV time.

Despite everything, I will very much miss my dad. I will remember him when I hum and even sing, which is becoming similar to how I rememberhim doing it. Even in the mundane, the way I sneeze remind me of him. It is sad but life has to go on.  He would want it to be that way.