When Alex was a year old, we taught him to call his grandparents Daddy and Mommy. (A❤️ and I were Papa and Mama.) He tweaked this a bit by adding Lolo (grandfather) and Lola (grandmother) to their names, thus coming up with Daddy Lolo for my dad and Mommy Lola for my mom. A❤️’s mom was also Mommy Lola, although as he grew up, he decided to call her Mommy Flower (her real name was Flora) or Granny Flower. A❤️’s dad was also Daddy Lolo, but this evolved into Daddy Only, from a telephone conversation they had when Alex was three.
Three-year-old Alex: I love you, Daddy Lolo.
Daddy: Alex, just call me Daddy. Don’t add Lolo at the end anymore, okay? Daddy only.
Three-year-old Alex: Okay, Daddy Only. I love you.
The name stuck.
Daddy is, and will always be, my kids’ Daddy Only.
Daddy Only had a massive hemorrhagic stroke while driving home from a friend’s house last November 8, Friday night. He did not sustain additional injuries from the accident and, thank God, there was little damage to the car and driver he hit. He must have sensed something that made him slow down (and Daddy was always a fast driver, even at his age) but we will never fully know the events of that night as he never regained consciousness. After a few days in the neurological ICU, Daddy passed away at a little past one in the afternoon of November 14, New York time.
Daddy treated me like a real daughter; in the more than 28 years I have been part of his family, he never showed me a single moment of unkindness. He wasn’t the kind to be overtly sentimental and effusive in expression, but as he grew older, he also became softer and less stringent in affection, dropping “I love you’s” in our conversations and laughing heartily when we rained him with more of the same.
Where Alphonse got his good looks
My history with their family dates back to my high school friendship with A❤️ but in those days, I only ever saw his dad from afar. My first real encounter with his father was when I was already a freshman in college. One afternoon, I dropped by their house to deliver a letter for A❤️ and I came upon a really good-looking man sweeping the front yard of their home. He had on a pristinely white shirt with matching white shorts, and his jet-black hair was slicked and combed back. If I remember the event vividly, it was because the man struck me as “movie star handsome.” He broke into a wide smile when I introduced myself and called on his son, who, at that time, was gangly, gawky, and, yes, a bit pimply. I could see A❤️ ‘s close resemblance to his dad, but back then, Daddy cut a more imposing figure than his son. Family lore has it that when he left Silay for Manila to go to college, he was offered to be trained as an actor in one of the old film studios, but he declined because he was shy.
Over the years, I have built an encyclopaedia of memories with and of him. Because of the geographical distance, most of them are from the weekly Skype or phone calls he faithfully made to us. The most precious ones, however, are from his short visits back home or the times we went to New York to see him.
Daddy was always a no-nonsense kind of guy. He was pragmatic, down-to-earth, and not one to waste a single moment dwelling on “what-ifs.” He was thorough and decisive. When faced with difficulties, he was slow to burn, patient, and not quick to anger. I think A❤️ got those same qualities from him.
When their family decided to leave for the United States in the late eighties, Daddy did so with a lot of apprehension but he did it for his family. He left behind a promising position in Manila (he was bank manager of the PNB Rizal Avenue branch) and worked long jobs in the early days to make sure his family would be comfortable in the US. I try to imagine the humility it took to accept jobs that were beneath his education and experience, all to make sure he could build a future for his children, and it is something that still fills me with awe and pride today. With hard work and perseverance, in time, he found a job that he enjoyed, and he stayed with the same company till he retired.
Daddy with Dale and Joyce, A❤️’s younger siblings
I think of Daddy often as a strong man but in truth, he could be silly and soft, too. Joyce, in particular, his only daughter, could melt him in a putty. The grandkids could always elicit laughter from him, never mind that Alphonse could only repeat the same few syllables over and over again. He also never forgot birthdays and he would call to greet them and say that he loved them. He loved his children and their children, no doubt about it.
Daddy and his Junior, the last time they were together
Over the years, as he built a life in New York now apart from his grown children, he made sure he was always there for all of us. Even with almost 9000 miles between us, we knew he would be if we needed him. He guided and advised us, reminding us of things we likely took for granted. And when our lives turned difficult and split us in different directions, like the Father above us, he never wavered in his faith in his children. He always believed in the best of us. He believed we would find our way back to each other again. And we did. Thank you, Daddy.
Now that you will be with us only in our dreams, it is time to upgrade your moniker from Daddy Only to Daddy Always. You will always, always be a Daddy to us all.
Thank you for welcoming me with open arms into your family, Daddy. Thank you for giving me and Alex and Alphonse a space in your heart. We’ll see you in a little while. We love you so.