Learning about life from my father

We siblings called him “Tatay,” at a time when everyone was calling their fathers “Daddy” or “Papa.” My Nanay said they want to be nationalistic.

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Like other fathers, my Tatay worked hard to give us a good life. Yes, he was the “second opinion” who could change our mother’s disciplinary actions. But more than the usual fatherly acts, my father was the man who showed us how to enjoy life. With him, we felt that every weekend was summer.

He never tired of going swim-ming when there was a body of water nearby. He amazed us with his diving skills, especially the one where he climbed to the top of a waterfalls and then did a swan dive to the deep pool below. At the swimming pool, he’d be the first on the diving board, enter-taining us with a spring board jump, flying up in the air, and managing half a jack-knife stunt. We didn’t care if he couldn’t complete it and landed on his chest, or butt — we applauded him for daring.

All of us siblings learned how to swim because of him. We were intro-duced to that skill rather unceremoniously — usually Tatay pushed us away from the pool side bar — then we had to learn how to tread water, or move our arms in a swimming motion. It always worked. We all turned out to be good swimmers. A long time ago, I even joined the swimming team in my school.