My father, my hero

I was still young then. About eight or nine, I cannot be sure. Papa was on his way to "fetch" our cow. I was supposed to stay home but I did not. Up to this day, I don't know what came over me. I followed him on his track, hiding behind bushes and trees scattered along the way.

Oblivious to my intentions, he went about his task. A sudden movement in the bushes distracted him and eventually led to his discovery of my presence in the area.

Since then, it was a longstanding joke that I am a "kujog-baboy" to my Pa. And up til now, my father remembers and recounts vividly the details of that incident. Much to everyone's pleasure (not to mention my embarrassment!).

You see, my father loves details. He embellishes every story he tells with the tiniest detail.

In my early elementary years, he'd draw my art projects for me.

He is the rod of discipline. He's always there to reprimand and scold us whenever we get naughty, and then provide mouth-watering kiddie treats afterwards.

All through my 29 years, he's there to guide me-and my siblings. And compared to my Mother, Pa is always the first one who gives his "point- by-point" advices (as we'd like to call it). As a matter of fact, although I first revealed my marriage plans to Ma, it was with my father that I first discussed the matter. Mother was just too emotional at that time.

He always emanates a feeling of security -always the source of comforting words. Being a just a kid, there were more than a thousand things that can scare you. Simply being with him is comforting enough.

And maybe we go back to being a kid at heart in some situations. Because when I was about to give birth, my Pa was with me the whole time I was inthe Labor Room. Before I was brought to the Delivery Room, he was the only one who stayed with me. (I decided to have my Ma wait outside because she was making me nervous; and hubby is still in Cebu).

These days, my 63-yr old father saved me again by playing nanny to my seven-month old son whenever I go to work. ( He volunteered even before I give birth; and he and mama refused to get a nanny for Matt).

I think I am not a Papa's girl. Really. But I hear people call me that and I don't mind a bit.