My Father’s Dream

I didn’t feel like waking up this morning, I wanted to fall back to sleep to continue my dream. 

I dreamt of people I thought are part of my life. Each of them were in their own place doing their own stuff, and it seems they don’t want to be disturbed.

The first one was stacking papers until it got so high it collapsed on the floor, and then he started  all over again. 

The second one was painting on canvass and if it turns out not good he makes another one. He made a lot but didn’t finish anything. 

The third person had lots of things around him but never touched any of those. He growled and seems like he wanted to keep all his stuff in an orderly manner and off-limits to anyone.

The last person I saw was wearing a soldier’s uniform but I couldn’t see his face. He was carrying no arms only medals and merit  badges pinned all over his uniform. As I was coming up to him I heard the tone of my alarm clock. And then there was black hole, my dream ended. I never got to find out who that bemedaled person was.

I was thinking deeply about my dream while walking slowly towards my office this morning. And then suddenly it dawned upon me. Why have I forgotten that my father is a soldier!  He’s a retired soldier, he left service almost a decade ago. 

Thoughts about my father started flashing in my mind. His life as a soldier wasn’t easy, not for him and not for us. You have to be very dedicated, must have a strong character, must know the rules by heart, must obey and be able to execute commands from higher rank without questions.  Most specially you must have a nationalistic heart, ready to make sacrifices to preserve peace and have the courage to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves.

My father’s life as a soldier is an inspiration  to us.  He took his first step to becoming a solider when he became “core commander” during his high school days. Being named highest ranking leader to a bunch of wide-eyed hopefuls, to me, is a big deal. He said that’s when he started thinking about pursuing a military career (and that’s how he captured my mother’s heart too!).

There was a time he was approached by an underground youth movement and was being recruited, but my father declined. He was thinking about his friends and the more than 200 students who were under him. He didn’t want to risk his life, but more than that he didn’t want to jeopardize the lives of his troop.

After graduation my father wanted to join the US Navy (during that time US has military forces in the Philippines).  To join however one must undergo an examination, which my father failed.  I think that was his first experience with failure, but that didn’t stop him from hoping that someday he will wear the uniform of a real soldier.

A few years later his dream came true when he finally got the chance to serve as Military Police (section of the military solely responsible for policing the armed forces, and work in military bases) and was assigned in Villamor Air Base.

He juggled between service and love for his country.. and his love for my mother. Every chance he had, he’d travel to see my mother in her boarding house in Manila and (take note!) he’d bring with him a basketful of vegetable and fish all the way from Zambales. They got married secretly and my father helped my mother to finance her studies. Once again they got married when my mother graduated from her teaching course.

My brother and I came into the picture a few years after and were witness when my father became a full-pledged soldier. He chose to stay with the Air Force, where he served as a military police, so we didn’t have to leave our home in Villamor Air Base. 

My father has experienced unfair judgments during the “coup d’etat” in the late 80’s. Not given the chance to defend himself, he got demoted two ranks below and was sent to a short term confinement to an unmoving ship called “500” inManila Bay.  He was one among those soldiers who didn’t have any choice. He suffered humiliation and difficulties the worst of which is being away from us his family. But it’s also nice that when we visit him I get to sleep in his bunk bed in the ship and we’d have the greatest day in prison.

My parents sent us to a private school for boys no matter how expensive it may be. I remember a time when my father was only receiving 500 pesos in his payslip, after debts and advanced loan payments taken off his salary. He was continually looking for alternatives to get a bit of money. During his break time at work he’d plant pechay ,  kangkong in the backyard of their office at the base for our own consumption and to sell when harvest is ready.

He’s also well known in our place for selling “mangoes”, sometimes he sells fish too. Sometimes I go with him, he rides the pedicab while I push or vice versa. He does most of the talking while I, being inherently “shy”, handle the list (of those who bargains to pay later!).

But the truth is, those time not one of us children was really sincere in helping him. We pointed fingers at each other about who’s turn it will be to go with him. I must admit I thought it was pretty desperate and we were degrading ourselves working in the streets. Deep inside me I was worried about becoming so dark skinned when I’m under the sun too much.  I worried so much about what other people will say about us (private school children).

He was a real hardworking man. As a military father he was very strict. Before, he didn’t like us to be part of any physical activity and never let us go somewhere far like camp. He’s very protective and never lets us out of his sight. But not one of us ever doubted just how much he loved us. Both my parents are so kind, very humble and down-to-earth people, which is why our neighbours like them very much.

Maybe because of these experiences and hardships as a soldier, not any one of my brothers thought of following the footsteps of my father.

No one, except me.

I wanted to become a soldier too. I’m so fascinated with the uniform and the colourful badges. I somehow feel I’m responsible to protect others from harm.  And somehow, even if he doesn’t speak about it, I felt that my father’s dream is to see one of his sons becoming a soldier one day. I saw my father’s eye’s sparkled as he handed me the application forPhilippine Military Academy.  I told him I’d think about it but didn’t tell him I have hesitations.

I knew I will fail the physical exam because I can never meet the very stringent eyesight requirements. My father knows that too but that didn’t keep him from trying to encourage me. My one chance is to be a “Ground Officer”; you will be trained for six months in Camp Aguinaldo and be assigned to an office, not like most who will be assigned to the field. I had an uncle who is also a soldier and was willing to help me get there. Everything was set to go, except me.

I didn’t apply in the end. I didn’t understand what kept me from pursuing what I thought I wanted.  Maybe I wasn’t really the one who will fulfil our father’s dream.

We don’t talk too much about it anymore.  Maybe my father has already come to terms that no one will follow in his footsteps.  But I’ve never stopped dreaming about becoming a soldier someday. Something inside me wanted live the life of soldier. 

I remembered,  I got the chance to attend a big event of the church community I belong too. It was a gathering of all the leaders within metro manila. There was a part in the  program  where anyone can go in front and share whatever the Holy Spirit commands you to. I felt something strange, I feel like there’s something stuck in my chest that I have to let out. My feet led me to the front and I started speaking in front of everybody.  Mark 9:35 “If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all“. I told everyone about my father’s dream that one of his sons will follow his footsteps. I thought I would be the one who will fulfil it but couldn’t because of reasons beyond my control.

At that very moment I realized God showed me another way of fulfilling this dream. Although I didn’t become a soldier of my country’s army. I was, right that moment, standing as a soldier of the Army of the Lord !

I’m very proud that my father has served our country.  I hope someday he’ll be proud that I too became a soldier. A soldier of God fighting for those who are hurting, reaching out for the lost to His Kingdom. . At all times bearing God’s love.

As I write this, in my thoughts I pictured a scene. Two soldiers… me and my father… standing before our God…. proud that we did our job like good soldiers.  We both have weathered the worst of the storm…and no matter how heavy the burdens we carry, we will not be swayed but will continue to walk the line towards righteousness and full obedience to God.

I dedicate this piece to Retired 1st Lt. Maximo S. Abela, PAF , my hardworking and loving father. You were, and still are, a tremendously powerful figure in my life.

I hope in my own way I have fulfilled your dreams.

 

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