NEWLYWEDS The author's father with her mother on their wedding day

By ALEX AMANSEC

I am the eldest daughter of a father who did not have a father.

My father is 47 years old. He is a BPO employee and a cat-lover, an athlete and a photographer. He is a motorcyclist who likes to go on adventures across the country with his friends, and an online series enthusiast who goes on marathons with my mom on slow Saturday evenings.

As an all-in-one mechanic, he knows how to fix almost everything and, as a mentor, he teaches us how to move on when things cannot be fixed. Most of all, as a father of three daughters, he is our hero.

Heroes come from humble beginnings.

Technically, my father did have a father. I never met him, but I knew the guy through stories. In a small town in Canlubang, Laguna, my father’s childhood was characterized by economic hardships and limited opportunities. He and his mom had to make do with what little they had.

Here was a mother who would struggle to make ends meet for the rent, the electricity bill, and the tuition fees, while there was a father who would spend all his money on Lacoste shirts and expensive watches.

All for himself.

And when he came home at night, my father would ask him questions about their situation, but he would never get any answers. “He would pacify these, and it worked at that time. He would pacify it by taking us out, taking us to these great dinners,” my dad said.

Besides these materialistic expenditures, another suspicion that was confirmed far later in life was how my father’s father engaged in affairs with other women. “Considering that we didn’t have enough for ourselves, or for him to be able to provide for us… Or maybe that’s the reason he didn’t have enough to provide for us,” says Dad. “Because he was womanizing. And that hurts because it’s betrayal.”

A woman who could give all her love to someone beyond failures, heartache, and hunger did not deserve to endure those flaws. My father understood this very well—this is why he loved her dearly as her son.

“Where I felt her strength was how tough of a mom she was, especially for a kid like me. Typical of a boy—I was very challenging to manage as a kid,” my father says.

His mother wasn’t as academically skilled as his father was, but she would spend time with my dad. Unlike his father, his mother would be very patient with her son, exerting every ounce of effort to make him understand why things worked in certain ways, and why other things didn't.

She would celebrate the little wins and successes of my dad, taking a second to smile, hug, and kiss him on the forehead and express just how proud she was.

“Even if I knew that it wasn’t really something great, [she] took time and spent it just to give me that. It was just pure love.”

MOTHER AND SON The author's father, Ritche Amansec, with his mom, Teresita Amansec, and their pet poodle Poochie

Love and sincerity from the women of his life were what brought my father up to be the person he is today. It started with his mother, and then was also embodied by his aunts, his mother’s sisters, who were 100 percent together when it came to raising my father through the years. They treated him as if he were their son, too. As the African proverb goes, it takes a village to raise a child.

My dad also gives a lot of credit to two sisters from the Salesian school he attended in his youth. The first is Sister Gertrudes, his fifth-grade adviser who discovered my father’s knack for speaking. “And she believed in me. Kaya I ended up becoming second place in a [speech competition]. [To this day,] I think of it as a milestone and a turning point in my life.”

The second one is Sister Nancy. “She taught me the value of prayers and faith, that in a world where there are things you can’t control, you just pray for it. And that solidified my faith.”

My grandmother passed away in February 2013, though he tells me how he still sees fragments of his own mom in the woman he married. “That’s even more of a reason I love her very much, because I think God rewarded me with someone similar to my mom who’s really loyal, strong, and dedicated.”

MY HERO'S HERO The author's grandmother

It all goes to show how a woman’s love and dedication is unconditional, powerful.

I asked him, “Does the influence of these women manifest in any way with who you are today, especially as a father?”

My father chuckled. “I hope it does.”

It does, Dad.

The women who raised you, I see them through the things you do for me and my sisters. You are dedicated to showing us that you love us, going out of your way to ensure we only get the best of the best, and answering every question that we ask (even going above and beyond what we were initially looking for).

You celebrate every single win of ours, whether it’s an award we receive at the end of the academic year, or the small snacks we make in the kitchen. You are our provider, but you are also a teacher, our first audience member, and a strong shoulder to lean on.

From the countless hours spent helping us with our school projects to the words of encouragement whispered before big moments in our lives, you have been there every step of the way.

Learning from the mistakes of others and emulating the values of those who stood by us are a venture that is easier said than done. I’m in awe of every person who dedicates their lives to doing this in pursuit of loving—and learning how to love—the people close to their hearts.

Thus, as we celebrate this year’s Father’s Day, we must take a moment to appreciate the lifelong endeavor it takes to prove oneself a good father.
My dad is a great one.