20th Death Anniversary of my Father

At around 9am of May 13, 2006, our father peacefully died in Quezon City General Hospital after being confined due to a second stroke. My father, Arnaldo G. Perez Sr.,  had been paralyzed since 1994 or 12 years leading to this fateful day. This entry is to give a tribute to the man that has shaped some of my important views in life and raised us to the best possible way. 

We are an ordinary family with just enough to sustain a decent home, education and food. My father used to work for RPN 9 way back in the 1990s. He used to take us every weekends in known fastfood joints, visit our auntie / father's sister in Munoz, QC, stroll along the old SM North Edsa and buy some comics. I learned to read and comprehend better as it was our weekly practice to buy the latest version of Filipino Funny Comics, Kick Fighter Magazine, Bata Batuta. Once in a month, we go for a haircut to Mang July's  barbershop in Novaliches Bayan. 

Sunday is a market day. Prior to his stroke attack, I would normally accompany my father in the wet market and buy our weekly meat and fish supply. Sunday lunch are especially because he would normally cook seafood delicacies such as sinigang na miso, sinabawang tahong, fried hito. 

During my early years at school, he would accompany us in some of the school events. He is a friendly figure in our school having known school guards and school administrators. Everytime I am having difficulty accomplishing a school project, I would always him saying "walang mahirap, di mo pa sinusubukan". We were disciplined by him at an early age where lights should be off by 8pm and everyone must be up by 4am the next day.  

He loves company and got lots of friends in the neighborhood. Every birthday celebration of his peers, he is there for them. He is also closed with his sibling especially Tito Eddie (+) and Tita Vicky (residing in Canada). I could remember occasional visits to Pandacan and Munoz, QC where Tito Eddie and Tita Vicky lives respectively. 

My father has a rough and tough side.  He has 6-8 tattoos and owns 2-3 guns with lots of ammo. In one visit to Hagonoy, Bulacan, we would go on a firing practice in tree-laden farm. He is also an alcohol drinker and would drink until he drops when there is a special occasion. 

In June 1994, he suffered his first stroke attack. He was bought to now Novaliches General Hospital (NOVAGEN) and has able to recuperate after few months. He was 42 at this time. I remember a PT visiting our home and rehabilitating the right side part of his body. He was able to walk again but limping. Speech was not affected. On the following year, my mother retired from Metrobank to look after the family. 

Our family struggled financially at the turn of millennium and as just I was starting college. We stick together and fight through the situation. My father was full-time caretaker of our youngest sibling who himself has adapted his form of discipline. My mother is the breadwinner while I contribute some money from my DOST allowance to augment in the family needs. On our lowest time, friends are few and relatives are fewer. We only have ourselves and some true family friends. 

In April of 2006, first signs of stroke starting to appear. We misinterpreted it as rayuma and didn't saw the need to bring him to the hospital. When things are not improving, we brought him to Quezon City General Hospital. He was conscious when we brought him there but started to deteriorate. The last time I was able to converse him is when he asked for a water to drink. Mother's shift is in the morning and I am staying in the evening. Due to lack of funds to pay for an oxygen tank, we have to manually pump air.

He went into comatose first week of May 2006 and the attending physician's prognosis is not good. Deep inside, I know that it is just a matter of time. On normal Saturday morning of May 13, 2006, I told my mother that I will be going home to get some stuff. Some 15 minutes after I left, my mother called me and asked me to return to the ward as my father went into emergency resuscitation. Doctor and nurses are surrounding him and pumping some electric charge. My mother is on the side crying aloud while being comforted by relatives of other patients. After a few minutes, he was declared dead. Before my father's body is wrapped in clothes, my mother hug him one last time. I was not crying by that time. I approached his body and whispered, "thank you papa, pahinga ka na". They say that the sense of hearing if the last to go once a person dies. 

We don't have much time to mourn on that morning as we need to fix the funeral on the same day. We don't have money but through the help of overseas relatives and mother's friends, we were able to pull out the needed amount. In the afternoon of May 13, his funeral is all set in the St Peter's Chapel. On the first night of the wake, my mother and 2 brothers stayed at the funeral home. I went back home to rest but my mind is running of thoughts of my father. I cried heavily that night. He was laid to a family lot in Hagonoy Public Cemetery on May 17, 2006. 

My father is not a perfect person, has flaws and faults and weaknesses. Yet he stayed true with his responsibility of being a father and raising us to the best possible way. The courage, resilience and being street-wise are among the traits I personally learned from him. I was chastised (i.e. "utak biya") by him every time I make stupid acts and decisions. His death both an end of an era in the family. An era of happy childhood, struggles and downfall and fighting difficult situations. 

In September of 2006, I relocated to another residence to have live independently. My brothers stayed with my mother until this time and have go on with their own careers and lives. I am the only one that raised my own family. 

The death of father has a profound effect on me. Each time I encounter a difficult situation, I will always go back to May 13, 2006. If the situation is not worst than the fateful days of May 2006, then it is nothing. 

He maybe gone but definitely not forgotten. Salamat Papa!