Saturday, August 8, 2015

Visiting Papa Cesar

        Our quick trip to the Philippines next week does not excite me at all. It's gonna be nothing short of depressing. It brings back sad memories of my most recent and equally short trip, almost two years ago, to attend my mom's funeral. Don't get me wrong, this time we're not traveling for same reason. May be close, as well visit my wife's dad, moribund on his deathbed, clinging to his dear life.

        I have always considered myself blessed, becoming a member of the Mozar family. It was an honor to have called Mama Alice to my late mother-in-law, whom I adored and loved just like my own, and Papa Cesar, the man I looked up to so highly.

         I did hear a lot about Papa Cesar, even before becoming a member to his immediate family. All the things I heard, though, can be knitted into few words - strict, disciplinarian, firm. Where a no means no - no buts, no ifs.

         Papa's strong fraternal (father) authoritative figure is something he put into practice long before becoming a father himself, this I was told. He took the responsibilities of being a father, along with his mother, at a relatively early age, when his father left them raising another family. And for this, he earned high regards and respect from everybody - his siblings, his family, his colleagues at work, the community.

         Knowing and noting what Papa was like, I took caution and gathered a lot of courage when I first came to Mainit, Surigao del Norte, to meet him with the intent of asking for his permission for me to marry her 'favorite' daughter. I anticipated a few things, not necessarily akin to the 'Meet The Parents' antics, which kept my mind guessing wildly while we're on our way aboard a passenger bus.  I learned he does not have any vices at all. And that he keeps himself busy tending to  his fighting cocks, when not at work as the principal in the local public high school. He enjoys going to local cockfight games, betting for his cock, or somebody else's, his way of unwinding during weekends. I never was a fan of cockfighting and had been to a few games just in the neighborhood, but I tried preparing myself for this possible topic for conversation.

         While in Mainit, I waited for the opportune moment when I can talk with him about my sincere intention. Back in my mind, I'd been rehearsing the lines I had to say, so many times. The day came when we were to leave town, armed with my rehearsed lines, I joined Papa while doing his usual morning routine feeding his fighting cock collection. I was about to open my mouth to deliver my lines when he, in a soft spoken voice, asked me, 'what are your plans? when are you planning to settle down?'.  Whoa! Things were made easy for me!

         I came to know more and more about Papa as the 28 or so years of being a family member came and went.  He is a man of candor, honor and few words. He is a public servant in most of his adult life, mentoring young minds on the importance of education while straightening the crookedness of the misguided few kids, all aimed at making them productive members of society. He is  a friend to many who believe in his leadership, and a foe to a few who despise him for standing firm to what is fair and just. As most people do, he lives mostly within his comfort zone.

         He is such a thoughtful father. My wife, third in the brood of five, told me she cannot forget the moments when Papa cooked adobo, packed it on empty milk tins and sent it to her when she was in college. I cannot thank him enough for his thoughtfulness, when he kindly shelled out  personal money for the installation of water pump in our humble abode, after finding out our water supply problem. This is just to name a few!  For certain, his other children would have more to say, attesting to  his thoughtfulness and loving kindness.

         Lately, as Papa's sun approaches the other end of the horizon, his age takes a toll on him. Alzheimer's slowly takes away the priceless and precious memories of his, once,  illustrious life and career. A mild stroke affects his motor and coordination functions, affecting among other things,  his gait. Then, a bacterial infection clandestinely eats the muscles on his leg - a condition called necrotizing fasciitis, causing the dismemberment of his right leg. Recurrent pneumonia makes breathing for him a chore. And right now, he's lying on his bed at home, discharged from the hospital as the attending physician ran out of treatment option for him!

        As we prepare to physically visit Papa Cesar, I had the opportunity to visit with him in the past, bringing back to the surface of my mind all the good memories of a good man and a great father. 

     Hang in there Pa, we will be there soon.

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Update: Papa breathed his last while we were still en route to the Philippines. A sad quick homecoming, yet it ended up with a happy note - the ills and pains that mortals endure are no more for him.