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Monday, March 13, 2006
Penaflorida: A good and decent man
By Atty. Jobert Penaflorida
On The Spot
LAST Wednesday, my siblings and I buried our father. It was private, solemn and simple. Only the closest of family and friends gathered around to pay homage to him for an enduring life well lived. My dad would have wanted it that way; for he has always been a simple man and a very private person.
This was precisely the reason why I decided not to make media announcements about his death. With due apologies to many of our own personal friends and associates, my sisters and I wanted only those who personally knew our father's goodness and kindness to share our final moments with him.
Koy Chi Bon, my dad's real name, came from Amoy (now Xiamen) in China some 50 years ago. Like many chinoys, he, together with a few friends and his younger brother, took the risk of escaping from the then repressive communist regime, battled the dangerous open seas, and migrated to the Philippines.
Upon entry in this country, he was assigned the name "Abon Yap" which is an erroneous translation of his real surname, Cui or Koy. Thus, while a few thought that by legally adopting my mother's maiden name as my own when I became a lawyer and in consonance with my maternal grandpa's dying wish, I was repudiating my dad's surname, they were wrong. I was discarding one that has completely no legal or historical basis. I am proud of my Chinese heritage as I am equally proud of my Filipino roots. I believe that they are complimentary and I have in fact benefited from the best of both worlds.
In my eulogy during his funeral, I shared the very important lessons we have learned from our father. Honesty, integrity, simplicity, frugality, loyalty, discipline and hard work -- these are some of the priceless legacies that we have imbibed as our own. These are enduring traits that we will certainly pass on to our children.
Others were even surprised why I continued to work even during his wake. But by doing my job and by doing it well, I was actually making the highest tribute to a man who has worked and who loved to work all his life. As a child, I remembered how he worked from 7am to 11 pm every day, Mondays to Saturdays, including holidays. His "rest" day if any is every Sunday when he reports to work at 8 am and leaves the office at 2 pm. Would you believe my dad was working past his retirement age until we practically "forced" him to retire at age 80?
Dad was also a very kind and gentle man. Unlike my disciplinarian mom, he has never spanked any of us, a trait he continued to exercise on his grandchildren. In his twilight years, my hyper-active kid would play around his bedroom and would make all the annoying noises, but he never got angry or irritated. Her noises are lullabies to his ears that would in fact bring him to sleep and touching my kid's small hands would bring so much joy and happiness in his face.
But true to his stern Chinese upbringing, he was reserved and conservative in showing his emotions and affection. He demonstrated his love to us by being a good provider, trying very hard to make both ends meet, in order to send us to the best school. Good education has always been his topmost priority.
But to this day, I cannot forget how my dad cried when my mom died some 14 years ago. I cannot fathom where the depth of his pain and emotion was coming from. It was so excruciating and immeasurable that I thought he would die on the spot. But, perhaps, it was a genuine expression of true, selfless and unconditional love that I saw in the both of them. In fact, even my mom's dying wish was not for herself, but for my dad. She wanted me to bring him back to China, something that he cannot afford with his meager retirement pay.
Thus, a year after my mom died, I brought my dad and my two sisters for a 2-week sojourn to Xiamen, Hong Kong and Macau. For him, it was a joyful homecoming after almost half a century; for us, it was a journey to self-discovery. We met all our uncles, aunts, cousins, relatives and even our other siblings. We paid homage to the tomb of our ancestors. We understood where we came from. I realized I got my looks from my paternal grandmother and even my genes from my dad's siblings who were all retired educators.
In China, the son is always the favored one. For my uncles, especially, I was their favorite long-lost nephew and they called me "Jobert Koy." While it does not exactly sound good, I must admit it is endearing and truly heartwarming.
When it was time to bid adieu, our and his siblings wanted him to stay behind, even just for an extended vacation. We encouraged him, too, but he vehemently refused. His home is now the Philippines, where his heart will always be.
Last Wednesday, he got his final wish. He was buried in Philippine soil, in a place he personally chose, together with the remains of my mom. Indeed, death can be a joyful and liberating experience. It was not only a celebration of a long and enduring life; it was also a celebration of true and unconditional love.
For comments and reactions, email at attyjobertpenaflorida@yahoo.com.
(March 13, 2006 issue)
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