Tatay

Goodbye. It’s been days that these words keep coming back into my mind. Goodbye is such a strong word for me. I honestly don’t like it. I remember the time when my Tatay was still alive. Tatay (Filipino for dad/father) my maternal grandfather was very close to me. I even inherited his name. When my brother and I were still in elementary years up to high school, we used to sleep beside him. He will always be at the middle to be our referee, because my brother and I used to fight.

My Tatay was a seaman, he used to operate ships until such time that he found a little business by manning the port in our town. So he travels regularly. Every time he travels, I cry if he would not let me go with him, so I usually ended up going with him. If not, he will always have a chocolate for my siblings and me when he goes home.  He would always joke, “I will put you inside the bayujot “(local bag made from the leaves of a buli or anahaw tree). He travels with it. It’s funny that he has a suitcase and yet he would still put the suitcase in the bayujot. Since he has access to the control area of the ship, I can go inside with him, have a look of the city at a distance using the binoculars, while he talks to the captain of the boat. I guess that’s were I got my fascination for places. I came to love travelling.

One of His favourite recreations, aside from Majhong, is fishing squid in our local port.  So the routine goes every six in the evening. I would go with him, ask him questions and being fascinated at his stories about what he called, “peace time”. The time before the Japanese invaded the Philippines. I am equally amazed at his stories of the war. He was one of those soldiers of USAFFE (United States Armed Forces in the Far East) who surrendered Corregidor and was at the death march to Capas, Tarlac. He was incarcerated and after the country was liberated, he was eventually released.  I listened intently to his stories, the like of how they manage to survive in prison with a ration of rice and salt. So to augment the usual food given by the Japanese, they would catch anything, like, lizards, rats, mouse or even cockroaches just to survive. And by the way, we usually have a squid or two, enough catch for the evening.

Tatay would bring me along anywhere he goes. We went to some appointments of his eventual recognition as a veteran of the war. Appointments after appointments, letters after letters, it went nowhere. He passed away unrecognized by the country he was serving. He serves the United States and the Philippines, and yet the same governments did not recognize him. I felt sad, how honour and justice as a veteran was not given to him. For me, it was not so much about the benefits that one will get, but more so of honour, justice and dignity he so rightly deserves.  I felt the pain of seeing him slowly passing by and feeling rejected. This was his last battle. Well, it’s seems all was lost, but I consider it an unfinished tasks that has to be done right.

When my siblings and I were studying already in Cebu and my mom would tell him that we are about to go home, he will wait patiently at the bus station for us to arrive. Come to think of it, before there was no cell phone site in our town, least a telephone, our way of communication is by writing a letter and sends it through a ship that goes weekly from our town and Cebu. This was the routine until up to the last time when the Lord took him. Now, every time I go home and get off from the bus, I felt the sting of pain when no one is waiting. I missed him dearly, yes, and yet he lives on in my memory where no one can take him from me. He lives forever.

My Tatay, in the words of so many towns’ people, was a “maajong tawo” (a good man). He is my hero. Recognized or not, I know he is.

+ Arsenio Vasquez Tan

December 14, 1920 – April 13, 2001

by aats