My father was a true disciplinarian, embodying both sternness and fairness in equal measure. As a child, I struggled to comprehend his methods of discipline, but with the passage of time, I began to recognize the profound influence he had on my life. I remember his strictness vividly, his constant concern about the mischief children are prone to, which often dismayed me. He would remind us tirelessly to study, having invested his blood, sweat, and tears to ensure we received the best education possible. He insisted we eat our vegetables, never allowing us to leave the table until our plates were clean. To this day, I owe my appreciation for all vegetables—yes, even the bitter ampalaya, the slimy okra, and the humble eggplant—to his unwavering insistence. He instilled in me the value of prudence, a lesson for which I will forever be grateful.

Throughout my formative years, my father was a constant presence. It wasn’t until much later that I fully understood how integral he was to the moments that shaped me into the person I am today. I would listen to stories from strangers whose fathers never expressed love, and I found it difficult to fathom such dysfunctional dynamics. My dad loved us openly and seized every opportunity to demonstrate that love. To have him as my father was a true privilege—a treasure that many only dream of. He was always there: for evening dinners, graduations, Sunday Mass, holidays, and vacations. His presence was unwavering, both in body and spirit.

A self-made man in the truest sense, he financed his own education by working as a blueprint operator for Manila City Hall. A dedicated engineer, he eventually spearheaded significant government projects as the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) Director in several regions of the Philippines. His collaboration with our nation’s leaders and his vital contributions to infrastructure across the country exemplify the path of someone with dreams and aspirations. He literally rose from the bottom of the hierarchy to the top, yet his humility outshone his achievements. His tenacity was inspiring; even in his later years, he would often tackle housework himself, encouraging us to do the same. Sundays were marked by his culinary prowess, from grilling to tidying up the backyard and garage—he was quite the handyman. Consequently, I have never seen manual labor as beneath me. He led by example, and now that I’m older, I recognize the beauty of my father’s heart more clearly than ever.

Generosity was woven into the fabric of his character, extending not only to family but also to others. His years in public service fostered a spirit of giving that attracted flocks of strangers to our home, drawn by his good nature. I recall taking advantage of that generosity, all while he remained unassuming, confident that I would learn from my own mistakes without his intervention. He has always been the pillar of my moral compass, his life revolving around faith and family, with his heart worn proudly on his sleeve. When I left for the United States, I was taken aback by his tears—he cried the hardest, even more than I did. Every visit he made to my new life ended with tears at the airport; he was unafraid to express his emotions, transcending traditional notions of machismo with kindness and compassion.

It is impossible to speak of my father without mentioning my mother. Their love for each other was a shining example for my siblings and me, a beacon of affection. They walked hand in hand, like teenagers in love, and my father’s sweetness towards her is a rarity I seldom witness today. Thank you for showing me how love can withstand the test of time. Thank you for teaching me that love must be felt deeply. Thank you for the constant reassurances of your love, and for your fearless expression of that love.

My father embraced people as individuals. I often hear stories of gay men tormented by paternal rejection, but I have never faced such anguish. In my thirty years, I experienced no grief related to my sexuality, for he acknowledged and embraced me for who I am. Because of this acceptance, I am unafraid to reveal my true self to the world. Thank you for walking me down the aisle on my wedding day; I never fully expressed how validating that moment was for me.

Many love their fathers simply by virtue of shared chromosomes, and parents raise their children because they are theirs. Yet, it is effortless to invest love in those who are part of our predetermined lives. We often take solace in the notion that family, whether they like it or not, will always be there. Not everyone is so fortunate. My love for my father transcends the ordinary. I will forever wear that honor with pride. He guided me through life, imparting the wisdom of what is truly important. Perhaps he never realized the depth of his influence, but let it be known: whatever goodness resides in me today, I owe to the dynamic duo that is my father and mother. Though I may have seemed defiant at times, their lessons have carried me to where I am now, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Weeks have passed, yet my longing for you remains unabated, and I suspect it always will. I miss you profoundly, Dad. You have left an indelible emptiness in my heart. Father’s Day will never be the same again, nor will I ever be the same without you.