In memoriam

EYES WIDE OPEN

- IRIS GONZALES

My father, Blamar, would have turned 78 today, but days ago, his gentle soul decided, as his favorite song goes, to go on a summer holiday. For good. Off to the great beyond.

Saul Bellow said that losing a parent is something like driving through a plate-glass window. You didn't know it was there until it shattered, and then for years to come you're picking up the pieces — down to the last glassy splinter.

It's a paralyzing feeling of immense loss. One of the two people who brought us into this world, cared for us and nurtured us to survive it, and thrive, is now gone.

But with his death, we also celebrate his life — a man who loved us in his own sweet way that was second to none; a man who taught us life skills to help navigate a complex world and who taught us how to survive almost everything in this thing called life — hopefully including his absence.

His lessons were mostly practical. He taught me and my siblings how to drive, how to get out of road mishaps and how to get ourselves out of trouble, which came in handy during street brawls or encounters with strangers. He taught us how to deal with people from all walks of life. He taught us what to do in case of emergencies.

He was also my personal Rescue 911 and boy, did he come swiftly, all the time without fail, wherever I was. He saved me many times — be it car trouble or a heartbreak.

When my siblings and I were kids, he and my mom often brought us to crowded places — Christmas bazaars and carnivals.

As kids, we often got lost in the crowd because we were young and restless.