Loving Homer Simpson

by Yas Jayson Tuesday, March 23, 2010 10 palagay home sweet home vita brevis

He turned 51 yesterday. With gray hairs starting to dominate and more lines appearing on his calm face, I watched him pulling chairs outside to accomodate two more persons in the circle of a drinking session. Convinced not to blow the candle on his chocolate cake, he proceeded to get more bottles of beer from the fridge. The whole house was the smell of pork steak and chicken barbecue coming from the grill he set up at the garden. He really has never failed to tease my appetite. Beside being a father, there are three things that I can associate this man with: Good food, movies and music.

After putting down my bag, I hurried to get his hand for blessing which he did not refuse. Kaawaan ka ng Dyos he said. Fathers are like potatoes. They come in all shapes and sizes which cannot be described but all have the same taste. I'm done with my fatherly rants and fine with the potato I got. I just need to double time appreciating him and his potato feelings.

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When I left home some weeks ago, I was full of contempt that I didn't have much to say to him before I left. After hailing a cab, I brought out all my things from the room I share with my brother without a word. He was there at the living room watching an action movie as he used to do. I left our house for good to give more space to our relationship but really I never left home. They are still my family and it is with them where my heart is.
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Papa is the person that I hate and love at the same time. He listens to country, folk, OPM and even rock songs that it is so natural to him to like Glee ( just imagine your own father crazy about glee. nakakatawa pramis.) He is so devoted to his religion and tried to win me every chance without success. He loves Hannah and Habi so much that he spoils them. He gets drunk easily. He cannot be defeated on shouting match. He obeys my ate who fondly calls him My Romeo. He can repair anything from unruly dvd player to toliet bowl that does not sink. All my neighbors respect him. I will never understand the man I have as a father: loving, clumsy, moody and cool in his own ways.

We cannot choose what kind of father we can get because in this lifetime, fathers and families are given variables. We just have to accept who they are and learn to accept their personality. I am done looking for superman. I guess I need to settle with Homer Simpson instead.

If there is a part of me that hates this man so much, there too is a kid in me that refuses to grow up and still believes that fathers give toys and candies. I may never be the ideal son for him and he can never be the best man in my life but honestly, I am thankful that I have him as a father. I may never get what I want but surely, what I have is always a part of the bigger plan.

Happy birthday Pop. I never stop believing.