I didn’t live with my dad for a good part of my childhood. I don’t mean for this to sound sad, it was just something I’d gotten used to since his work would take him out of town for weeks at a time. This all changed when he got assigned to work in Cebu, and he opted to move out so my brother and I could continue studying in the city.
For four years, we only got to see him for special occasions like Christmas or our first communion rites, whenever he got assigned to do work in Manila for a few days and the one summer vacation where we got to visit him. Other than that, our communication was very limited.
I don’t often talk about this period in my life, and I generally don’t find the need to, considering my dad has since moved back in with us. Recently, however, I found myself looking back at all the ways my dad reached out to us during his time in Cebu and constantly made sure I knew he would always be there for me—at a time where social media wasn’t a big thing yet.
With most of my interactions with my friends limited to quick messages online, I’ve come to realize that most of what I know about communicating with people were things I learned from my dad after he made an effort to always talk to me at the end of the day—some of which are still worth repeating today.
Distance is no excuse to be distant
My dad may not have been physically present, but he always made sure I knew he was there for me by calling me and my family every night without fail. No matter where he was, whether he was out with his co-workers or fresh out of grueling meetings, he always made the time to ask us how our day has been.
Later, I’d learn that he used to do the same for my mom when she and I lived in Davao and he was based in Cotabato. He still makes sure to call us when he has to travel out of town every now and then, and he never forgets to send a “good morning” message to our family group chat every morning.
I like to think that his habit of keeping in touch with his family is something I’d picked up. Sending my parents a short message on Facebook after I get home to my condo after work or even calling them as soon as I get out of the elevator almost feels like second nature to me—all because of my dad keeping a line of communication open for all of us.
Listening is important
When I think back on it, my phone conversations with my dad ended up being a little one-sided—mainly because my dad would let me talk (or sing, when I felt like it) on and on about how my day went. He’d give me a short answer when I ask how his day has been, but for the most part he was content with letting me and my brother recount our good days or cry on our bad days.
These days, my dad likes reminding me how important it is for me to continue listening to people whenever I get the opportunity to. He’d tell me that really listening to someone involves paying attention to what the other person has to say and holding back judgement and letting the other person finish.
The memory of him listening to me for hours on end, not interrupting or cutting me off, is enough of a reminder for me. His reminders help, but he doesn’t know that he’s already taught me that lesson when he always heard me out at the end of every day.
I guess I find myself looking back at all of these things because it’s always amazed me how much my father valued keeping in touch with everyone he met: whether it was long-lost classmates from school or his very first group of friends from work. I tend to make fun of him for interacting with everything his friends share on Facebook, but I do think it’s a testament to just how much effort he puts into staying connected with everyone.
My access to social media has, admittedly, made me take staying connected with people for granted. I barely interact with anyone on Facebook, and although I know so much about communicating thanks to my dad, he’s also shown me that I still have so much to learn at the end of the day.
Header photo by Derek Thomson on Unsplash
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Meeting the father I never knew I had through Facebook
Stories, lessons, and advice we learned from our dads
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Writer: ANGELA PATRICIA SUACILLO
