Career Psyche

Months ago when the new batch of veterinarians stepped out of Centennial Hall of Manila Hotel, I was all consumed of the newly gained kind of freedom. Right from there, a sis from a veterinary sorority and I went straight to our choice of work – be a small animal practitioner. I do not remember to have shaken my boss’s hand when we first met though there was an exchange of greeting.

I was born to, I say, a hard-working family. A field to toil for a weekend was mine and my siblings to call playground. Dad would be so squeamish to have us home right after class. Seldom do we have the chance of kids’ play on the neighborhood. Only we tend to break rules when Dad was off somewhere because of scouting, a seminar or studying. Only we got surprised with our chores undone. Of course, spanking got its name. Growing up with one like him – a martinet was an unordinary sweat. Who said growing up is easy? It never was. When I thought after graduating and getting a job, I would be let out to live my own way. It turned, I am not one yet capable of deciding my life will lead to. For through thinking nuggets after nuggets, I realized Dad and everyone else in the family is still on with the growing. As for me, I have yet to understand why all the hard, hard and hard words he fed us. Dad’s words pitted us to the shape of what our individuality is – timid and uneasy with a crowd. Dad, I heard from mama was also trained the way we were brought up. Many a people have their own personal hard-time stories from their past lives. Dad among them is trapped, so deeply entangled! An old friend that has ruined a friendship. A relative who turned a bad blood. An expectation never met. The three square meals a day, sometimes even missing one or two and humbling means to his diploma. Word war with in-laws. Silent war with bosses and colleagues. Dad had been so drowned in all these. Now that he has us, his kids, he wants us do better – in school and all else. I want him to know how that wanting us to be better is a truth unfolding how he is bitter with life. Success for him is never enough. As much callus there is to be gets so unbearable more for me as the firstborn. Our social lives died the day we were born because Dad is anti-social. He rather sleeps during family reunions that kin become other people to him. Our friends in the living room are prickly pain in his sight.

College opened me to a world of chances – attention from peers from organization to organization. I turn grateful for the acceptances in the student groups that counted to more than my fingers. So to say that flunking two subjects that equaled to a two-year delay was a curse is corrected to be a blessing-in-disguise. The gateway to leadership let me expressed what I had been missing when Dad was within my perimeter. It was quite of battery-draining processing paperworks for an organization or two but getting the approval signatories of the University’s Office of Student Affairs’ Director was an upheaval.  Passing the files to the upcoming leaders up to the last minute to the graduation rites, when I looked around, I was the palest and plainest looking graduate. The smile within me though was the brightest.

When Dad fell ill last December, the family got along attending his needs. I had to leave my job to prolong my day-off. Opening the door to a scene of my sick Dad, I melted but my stiffened arms lay motionless on my sides. It was a heavy feeling for another suppression got into me. In his weak voice, he had not gone weary of firm pushing of me to take law. I supposed he was delirious when he said that I was just eager to be let loose so I chose to practice small animal medicine and set aside his idea of me getting back to basic of books. When he got better, I right away seek the exit for staying longer meant more influence, if not influences, from Dad’s own plan.

Yes, I am but a child instilled with love greater than hatred. I believe the One up there has me in this for He knows the capability I have. So are my siblings on the same hurdles. Unpacking my ill wishes before Dad is no way to a better being of me. No matter how the household gyrate and enumerate how much we have suffered, it is no use stooping over his flaws. Dad, after all, is Dad. I have never felt his hugs but I know that does not count on who he is in his paternal stance. I heard that it is in our culture to be not as emphatic as anyone else does. I wanted to regard the thought of it as more valid than thinking Dad as one who imposes restrictions in our lives. It has gone back to him being not hugged, not kissed on. While he is slighted, Mama has all our kisses and pecks on the cheeks. All I have done is obey him and I intend to be doing the whole thing for my entire life. Every cell I have though re-grown by my own physiology is every Dad’s. As cliche-ic as it deemed so, life is too short, so goes this paternal warmth unleashed. I did not wait for the 2013’s Father’s Day or for your birthday to earn from us our sweetness. Your disposition kept me – us mum for the longest time. But today, let us say this, “We love you Dad. Happy birthday!”