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Charlie* and Dad 1/25/2012 10:10:22 PM
He was telling me a story when by happenstance I notice a tattoo peeking on his right arm despite the fact that he was wearing long sleeves. He showed me others; his back, his left and then right shoulders and peeling away his sleeves, the extent to which he had his tattoo. And then, the stories flowed.
He said that he had tattoos far earlier when it was fashionable; that his tattoo was a sign that he was anti-corporate. Even though he was employed by a corporation, he despised it. There was no fit. He was 64 and by his looks and demeanor, I believe him. He curses a lot. I am amazed that at that older and mature age, he still curses. But you know he did not look like some trashy gentleman out for some dole. He looks decent and respectable. His curses were the only one that gave hint as to what he was when he was 25. I begin to wonder how he was conducting himself in privacy.
One time, he said, he was invited by a relative to stay with them in New York City. And there was a neighbor in that city that was crabby and nasty, that small things irritate him and that he shouted profanities at people. When his small relative played with a Frisbee and it landed on the neighbor’s bushes, the neighbor prohibited his small relatives to retrieve it and a small tiff ensued. He went out to his relative’s yard and he himself had a spat with him insulting the neighbor’s wife. So the neighbor runs over the bushes and attacks him in a small scuffle, but he dodged it and pushed him through the bushes and what a mess was made of his neighbor that the neighbor called the police. He was told by his relative to leave town, but he did not. He, instead, went to the police station to answer the charges. Eventually, he apologized and the matter was brought to a close.
Dad was almost the same way and to some extent my dad’s demeanor matches his. Dad was always combative specially when we, his children or relatives, were treated unfairly or put to harm. He was unselfish just like Charlie. And my dad had a tattoo, also, on his left thigh which he later burned because he subsequently saw it as unbecoming of a man who was growing old.
My dad was always the tough guy. I remembered when a guy overtook our car, back in Manila, he raced to catch on to the car, pulled our car ahead of it, opened the door to the other car and pulled out the driver and threatened him. I was probably 7 or 8 and I was so rattled that my father would do such a thing. One thing different from Charlie was that he did not apologize. I always saw him doing things threatening and not giving one iota to regret. He never regrets his action.
It was until such time as when I was in my forties, before he died, he said that he regrets not treating me fairly or my family, for that matter. For example, I asked too many questions. He was too immature to notice that in a child, things like asking too many questions were irritating. He failed to give heed to it because he was much more concerned with his own activities than his family. True, he defends his family, but within his family, after he engages us, he goes on his merry way to turn his attention to his own endeavors. (It was much like a father whose concern was his job. He escaped his family to deal with the task at his work.)
But no matter what my father did, he was a good father. Overall, I am like a child who did not realize his value because I was more concerned about my own well-being. Things were such that he did more good things. His bad behavior was a concept of my own immaturity.
Charlie, I believe was like my dad. He was generous, forgiving, decent and respectable regardless of the minor shortcomings. I love dad, not only because he was my father but because he truly personifies the man who regardless of consequence defends us, his family.
*Charlie is another name I made up for a colleague of mine.
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