Reflections of My Father

On the eve of the seventh anniversary of my father’s passing, I cannot help but reflect on the life he lived, the father he was to me, and the years that have passed that I have been without him. My father was, is, and will always be my greatest inspiration, my greatest motivation and my most humble foundation, my Bapa Udi.

Anyone who knew my father, can attest to his consistency, his discipline, his dependability, and soft-hearted nature.

My father was…

Welcoming

My earliest memory of my father was in a full home, our home with 5 doors that all opened at sunrise and closed only when the house turned in for the night. In this home we all lived, my parents, all my siblings, several cousins, and my maternal grandparents, all of whom stayed with us – and regular visits and sleepovers by my paternal grandparents. I remember that when my father was around, which he always was, he made sure there was food and coffee and that everyone was well-fed and taken care of. The first words that ever came out of my father’s mouth to anyone who stopped by the house, either briefly or to stay was inviting them to eat of the humble food he provided so generously, mostly fish of some sort, not much in terms of variety but always more than enough to go around. Our home was designed to be welcoming of all people.

Simple Man

When I think of my dad, I remember the simple man he was, wearing faded and worn Levi 501 jeans, his worn out and torn t-shirts, his Ray Ban sunglasses, his well-groomed hair and skin smelling and shining of nivea lotion. This was Bapa, a simple man who was always moving about and not one to waste away a good day. My parents were also very creative in how to entertain us as kids in simple ways. For instance, living in Koror and raising a pig required firewood that was not easily available to cook the pig’s food. On any given weekend our whole family would be spotted somewhere along the Kokusai dirt road collecting fire wood while we, the kids, slid down the muddy slopes. After that we would go swim at a nearby waterfall and viola – kill 2 birds with 1 stone. My dad instigated most of these types of outings. He was also a skilled outboard engine mechanic and so to earn extra cash, he would service outboard engines. After he was done, he would take us out on the boat late afternoons to test drive the boat and we would swim and he would fish and we would come back home – happy children and dad caught dinner.

My siblings and I had the basic essentials and never lacked anything we needed but we were definitely taught early on the difference between needs versus wants. I may have pushed my limits on the wants part with my dad. Ha.

Time

My father was always the first to wake, no matter how late he stayed up the night before. This is telling of the value my father attached to time. Every single day I can remember sleeping under the same roof as my father, I do not remember any time my father woke after 6:00a.m. My father was punctual. He hated being late and considered showing up on time as already being late. I certainly have not developed this. Needless to say, we were never late to school or anything else for that matter whilst under the care of my parents, especially my father. My father used to say, you cannot repeat even a second after it’s passed. Make use of your time and wisely.

Consistency

Everyone who has lived at Udi’s and Seba’s house at Uchulachades have the same stories to tell – even those that lived at different times. They share the same stories of the consistent discipline, consistent attention, and consistent presence that my dad maintained over the years. Discipline, rules, as well as consequences were the same for all of us – his kids and our cousins who lived with us. Although I will have to say, there are people that claim that this may not have been true for me. Ha. The jury is still out on that one – whether I got special treatment.

My father earned himself a reputation as the strict uncle that was consistent and organized. To his own cousins and extended family, his discipline, consistency, dependability, and organization made him an important pillar in his family – but to this day, I wonder if he himself realized the impact he had on many of his family and others who were fortunate to have crossed paths with him.

Family Man and Loving Father

My father was a great family man and the standard he held was so high that I sometimes wonder if these same standards are attainable or have the times evolved so much that this type of family man that my father was, is only a distant memory of those times. My father did not have much in terms of worldly goods to give but he sure had a lot of love, care, and fish to share.

As a kid growing up, I never once questioned or doubted the presence, support, and love of my father in my life. My father’s love, support, and presence was and is as sure as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west – I can only guess that this may be the very essence of a father’s unconditional love. Through my failures, my faults, my disobedience, and my actions that caused him headaches and heartaches, not once did I ever doubt or think for a minute that I had to work for his love. I just knew that he was there – that he will always be there, no matter what.

And as the last kid my dad raised and by default the one with the least amount of face time with him, we managed to develop our own unique relationship through the years despite the distance. Long before the convenience of affordable and reliable video chats and audio calls, my dad and I had to rely on the unpredictable and expensive service offered by PNCC to have our weekly Sunday chats. I think I can confidently say now that my dad’s efforts to raise me with a strongly rooted Palauan foundation was maintained and nurtured through these weekly Sunday calls. During these calls, we would talk about everything. I am almost certain that right after the “Hi, Rungalek. Ke uangerang?” is over, the next question I asked was who died that week and we would go from there. My dad would update me on the latest news of the family to which I would often ask questions leading him to explain how so and so is related to us. He would then update me on the latest from the political front based on the latest OEK session he watched on TV, often asking me what I thought and never failing to hear me through and reminding me to connect always my education to what I can do to advance my family, my community, and my country. 

Oh how I long to be in deep discussion with him especially now being so close to where the action is. And I can tell him that the nights he and my mom would drive me to the OEK Senate Chambers at night to sit in the gallery observing the likes of Senator Koshiba and Senator Olikong as a Maris Stella student were not in vain – that his support for my interests as a child have paid off and I am doing what I can to contribute to my young nation.

Man of Faith

My dad made sure to always remind me to put God first and He will guide me. My dad valued faith. For as long as I have known, I believe my father was a Christian. But he was certainly not a regular church goer when I was growing up.  Church was seldom for him but he made sure each Sunday we were up and ready for church with my mom. And though his visits were seldom, he never missed a church program that we had a part in. But I have to admit that when my dad finally came around, his faith surpassed anything I had ever seen. My dad stopped fishing on Sundays, which for many people was something they could not believe. He made regular tithe contributions of 10% on any income he earned and gave all he had in full faith that God will provide and not once doubting that. Seven years ago on this day, when my world shattered, only this – my dad’s faith in God – gave me peace of mind and a hopeful heart that we will see each other again someday.

--------

Seven years later, my wishes and my prayers remain – that my father took his last breath knowing how much he was loved, that he took his last breath at peace knowing he will no longer suffer again any of the pain he felt, that he took his last breath knowing that he had been the best father I could have ever asked for, that he took his last breath in peace and love – love greater than the Pacific Ocean that saw him take his last breath. I pray that he has finally found that which he was yearning for as an innocent boy.

There were many days when my father was alive that my heart ached for him because I suspected that he himself may have never experienced the unconditional love he gave me so freely because I was his child. To desperately yearn to belong, there were a couple of times I told him with my voice cracking that we were enough – that I was enough – that he should not have to seek to belong and experience rejection. It is never easy seeing your grown father shed a tear, and the times he did, he tried so hard to hide it to protect us. How selfless of him. In those moments, I prayed not to be so angry because my father did not deserve that pain. But the strength my dad possessed was unbelievable. He looked beyond the pain and loved still even those that hurt him so deeply one would not believe the scars he has. My father’s heart was so big, nothing else could claim it but the vast Pacific Ocean.

--------

My dearest father, the day you died, all I wanted to see was your face, to see if it looked like you suffered, but you did not look that. It looked like you were asleep. That, Bapa, gives me hope that you were at peace and are forever free of pain and suffering. My selfish self wishes still that you were still here with me. There are so many times I wish I could just pick up the phone and call you. But I know you are in a good place where only love lives and I would not let you come back to this mean world. If anyone deserves to be surrounded in love, it’s you Bapa.

Thank you Bapa for all you did while you were here. Thank you for imparting so much of yourself in me through the life you lived and who you were as a person. I hold on to your love as my anchor and foundation. You are forever my greatest inspiration, my greatest motivation, and humble foundation.

I miss you so much and I love you. May the heavens rejoice in celebration of the life you lived and the day you left in peace and love to meet your Maker. 

Yorosku er ngak e Bapa.