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Blogs by Paul Cuenco
Predicament: Father and Son
3/10/2012 10:29:57 PM
I did not know how dad ended up in the Philippines. All we knew was that dad had ended his trip and was on his way back to the United States but he would be flying back to Las Vegas directly. I told him to visit me at my condominium and divert his flight to Oakland and I would be paying his flight back to Las Vegas.
I had planned to take him to Portland, Oregon. Portland was the new destination. I did not have a house, yet but by this time, I found Portland to be a town worth visiting. I had hope that he would find this trip enjoyable. So, I picked him up at the airport and the next day, we went on this trip, just him and I. It would only be an overnight trip. The trip would not be a great burden to him, though.
He did not carry money. For one, he spent it all in the Philippines. He talked about it when we were on the trip. My Tita Luz and his brothers, including my dad, went to the Philippine Casino and probably spent it all in the casino. But no matter. I was paying for the trip anyway so he need not worry.
He told me a lot of stories. He told me about Malik, my sister Leia’s eldest child, about how he had constipation. Malik was a young child and was one of my dad’s favorite grandchildren. The child had constipation and Leia, being a young mother can’t pull the poop out of her child. So, dad did it. When Malik was relieved of it, he looked at dad thankful.
We were in the beautiful Shasta region where Mt. Shasta loomed big. The adjacent mountain was well forested and you could exit Interstate 5 through Dunsmiur. But dad did not give the scenery much thought. He spoke of how he treated me when I was a child, myself. He said that if had been more mature, he would have treated me differently. He realized this because of his relationship with Malik. He loved to play and he did not give me much thought especially because I was his only son. (All his children were girls except me. And the girls in the family were more important than male children.) He loved me as his son. But he did not offer much attention to me then. I understand.
We passed by the small town of Ashland and Medford. Before we reached Grants Pass, we stopped by at Rogue River to pick up a cup of joe at a coffee stand. My dad teased me about this girl who helped us. And all I did was just smiled at him.
When we arrived in Portland, it was already late. We checked into Hotel Lucia and had a good dinner at restaurant in the hotel; after which, he settled into sleep while I went out and enjoyed it.
The next day was most revealing because it was during this time that we had serious a conversation about life, family and his childhood. We first took the road to the coast. It would have been the first for the both of us. So we took the sunset highway and off we went. We had lunch at a local restaurant around Seaside and had a day trying to recount the days when I was still a young boy. What I can remember about dad was that he was a proud father. He would not ask anything from me. He was the provider, after all.
There was a portion of the trip wherein I felt so sleepy that I asked dad to drive. He said that he doesn’t drive anymore but would do so for a while. We stopped at a gas station and when I wasn’t watching he slipped into the store and bought himself some candy and some chocolates. I asked him if he was hungry but he said that he wasn’t. When twilight was at hand, we turned inland in one of the town and again we converse about our lives.
I asked him about his life. He answered most of them. But some others, he tried not to answer them. He did no talk about his childhood. All he said was that he ran away from home when he was 9 years old. He stayed at a relative’s place, that’s all.
We arrived home at about 4 am. I offered him a bed but he preferred to sleep on the floor. When I woke up, he was already preparing breakfast. He didn’t eat much. He ate Quaker Oats. And by the time we are all set and ready to go, he packed up his things and of we went to the airport.
I missed my dad. This trip was an opportunity to learn more about my father but he shared information but not information that was privy to him. I wish that he had shared more, but nonetheless, I learned more about my father granted that I didn’t know much about him.
Other literary work, search Paul Cuenco in: www.lulu.com, www.kindle.com, www.amazon.com, www.nook.com and www.bn.com
Website: www.paulcuenco.com
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