Tatay

Tatay (my mom’s father) was a newspaper man. I still have vague memories of their small stall at the corner of Banawe and Maria Clara. That stall had papers and magazines hanging all around, you can barely see the outside from in it.

Tatay was tough. My dad lived on the next block from their stall. He went to the same university where my mom went. And the rest was history. But, I found out later on that since our parents were still in college when my mom got pregnant out of wedlock, Tatay got a gun and pointed it at my dad threatening him to marry mom. I guess that’s what having 4 daughters out of 5 children does to you as a father. Stuff for Filipino teleseryes.

Tatay had a big round solid belly. As kids, we used to make fun of it and we were told it’s because he ate whole bones of crispy pata. Eventually, we figured out it’s just a beer belly.

Tatay gave me coins and treats whenever he saw me outside Ahma’s canteen. When I was six, we moved in with Ahma (my fraternal grandma) since my parents separated. Since then, I was seldom in touch with mom and her family. But Tatay was still doing newspaper rounds and whenever he passed by Ahma’s canteen, he’d see me and catch up and give me little somethings.

Tatay once picked me up at my high school shirtless. It was his youngest daughter’s wedding and I was one of the bridesmaids. I had exams that day but fortunately I was allowed to take them at an earlier and shortened time alone from my class (I aced one of those exams). When I was finished, a counselor escorted me to the gate and saw Tatay with an owner-type jeep wearing only a pair of shorts. I was a bit embarrassed but when asked, I confirmed he was my grandpa. The counselor obviously was embarrassed as well. It was an exclusive all-girls school full of rich kids (I got by through scholarships) and she told me to tell Tatay to wear decent clothes. I didn’t tell him and I shrugged it off. It was a weird experience but I considered it plain funny to even stress about.

For the next years after that, Tatay suffered from stroke for a number of times. He ended up paralyzed on one side of his whole body. No one in our family had money to send him to therapy. The least that can be done was to take care of him. This was despite the fact that he and Nanay were already separated. He had another family and lived with them for a while.

As I grew older, I got to see him less frequently. I had to move my family (Ahma, Sioti, my cousin, and 3 dogs) to the province, while I worked and rented in the CBDs. And continuing tensions within my mom’s family made me keep my distance.

Tatay passed away last week. The first thing that came to my mind after finding out was that I didn’t get to be filthy rich yet and he already left us! I wish I was born earlier so that I may have been able to help him then when we still had time. I wish I was just earning more so I could support him along with the rest of my family. I wish I could have afforded him a comfortable life in the last of his days. Indeed, money cannot buy happiness, but it could have bought a few more good years for him. I can’t really say that we were close because of my general relationship with my mom’s family, but he was Tatay, nonetheless.

Most of us cousins in my mom’s side of the family are part of the sandwich generation. I guess that’s just reflective of the rest of the Filipino society. We’re expected to contribute to the family once we start working. And while we’ve come to accept supporting our parents and siblings, it’s almost impossible to extend help beyond that without sacrificing more of ourselves. A “clubhouse” sandwich generation just wouldn’t do.

I know I haven’t been the best person and granddaughter, but I ask for strength to make sure this doesn’t happen again within my family, and hopefully with those that I can reach within this community. But above all, I pray and fervently wish Tatay is at rest and at peace where he is now today. If you could, kindly pray with me too.