We siblings called him “Tatay,” at a time when everyone was calling their fathers “Daddy” or “Papa.” My Nanay said they want to be nationalistic.

Like other fathers, my Tatay worked hard to give us a good life. Yes, he was the “second opinion” who could change our mother’s disciplinary actions. But more than the usual fatherly acts, my father was the man who showed us how to enjoy life. With him, we felt that every weekend was summer.

He never tired of going swimming when there was a body of water nearby. He amazed us with his diving skills, especially the one where he climbed to the top of a waterfalls and then did a swan dive to the deep pool below. At the swimming pool, he’d be the first on the diving board, entertaining us with a spring board jump, flying up in the air, and managing half a jack-knife stunt. We didn’t care if he couldn’t complete it and landed on his chest, or butt — we applauded him for daring.

All of us siblings learned how to swim because of him. We were introduced to that skill rather unceremoniously — usually Tatay pushed us away from the pool side bar — then we had to learn how to tread water, or move our arms in a swimming motion. It always worked. We all turned out to be good swimmers. A long time ago, I even joined the swimming team in my school.

My father followed what we now call gender definitions. He brought my brothers hunting, to work in the farm on weekends, and hired a tutor to teach them martial arts. I asked to be included in those activities but he refused, saying my husband will take care of me. I had art, guitar and typing lessons which my mother always arranged every summer.

Tatay had a strong appreciation for reading. He subscribed to two weekly magazines, Time and Newsweek, to the monthly Reader’s Digest, and bought any coffee table book that was presented to him. We even had volumes of encyclopedia and pocketbooks he had read in our home library.

When I married, I remarked that I had stopped buying Time magazine because it cost ₱10 and ₱40 a month was a big amount in my budget. He asked me to show him a ₱10-bill, and said — “Read that, what did you get?” From that time, the price of a book did not keep me from buying something that will give much information, inspiration or entertainment.

My father was a stickler for ceremony and tradition. We practiced many customs — from the usual gift giving on Christmas Eve; fireworks on New Year’s Eve; the Way of the Cross on Good Friday (for many years, he walked a 10-kilometer path which passed the 14 Stations of the Cross); slaughtering a live chicken or pig on the birthday of a child for good luck; and hauling half of our house things to a mountain resort every summer, which led me to love the forests and hiking.

Tatay had a thing for a complete dining experience, and that always started with appetizers and a beer, and ended with dessert. Even in the farm or mountain cottage, that routine was followed.

My father was a friendly man. He had many friends and still would make new ones when we are somewhere off our usual path. He could engage anyone in conversation that would lead to one’s family tree where — surprisingly — he would find someone related to someone in our family!

My Tatay’s most endearing quality was his concern for each member of the family. He was never too busy not to fetch someone from school or basketball practice or a movie with friends. He would drop everything when my mother felt ill, even accompanying her to the doctors and to extended hospitalization in Manila. I don’t remember him missing a First Communion, Confirmation, or graduation of a child.

He also introduced me to things I then thought were trivial and unnecessary expense. In Hongkong, he insisted on bringing me to high tea at the Peninsula. In Tokyo, he brought me to a tea making ceremony. He sent me to Manila to watch a Miss Universe Pageant at the Folk Arts Theater. Student activism had colored my views on these rituals but he said these were good to experience.

Last Sunday, as we paused to celebrate Father’s Day, I thought of my father. Aside from the lessons we learned from him, I thank him for making sure we had fun while growing up.