TIGblogs - Rhona Lopez

Remembering my Father, Rodney C. Lopez (1935-2008)
(Draft of Eulogy to be rendered either by Video or to be read by my sister-in-law, Amethyst Hazel Lopez, on the occasion of my father's Funeral on June 26, Thursday, in Manila)

Live from Las Vegas (sadly)

Hello, for those of you who don’t know me or probably do not recognize me anymore, my name is Rhona Cristy Gelle Lopez, and I am the only daughter and youngest child to Rodney Casimero Lopez.

I really wanted to travel back there to join the rest of you in saying goodbye to my father, but lots of circumstances are in the way, and I know that at least my mother and brother need their own closure soon on this.

So I have painfully decided to not come for the wake and funeral there in Manila itself, and this Video and Online Eulogy, made here in our Las Vegas home & office, is my own contribution to this event.

If this sounds rather scripted in English, which just happens to be the language of my work here in America as a TV Producer & Marketing Professional here for the past 7 years, it’s only because I am also very overwhelmed with emotion right now, and having a script is the only way I can communicate without just losing it right in front of all of you.

Beyond The Wheelchair & My Dad’s Behind-The-Scenes Approach

I am speaking now because I have to say that for the last quarter century, the last 25 years, my father has been relatively invisible because of his wheelchair-bound state.

I want people to know who my father was. I want people to know that he has always been an important part of my life, and he had achieved so much personally & professionally, making a great difference in a lot of other people’s lives & businesses too.

I want people to know that I am proud of him, and I will desperately miss him.

My First Teacher

Let me first start by saying that I have always been a Daddy’s Girl. My first memories of my father are of him being very doting. He would sing me lullabies he’d make up & practice from work. He would let me play with his wavy black thick hair, that I apparently have also inherited.

He was also very much a natural teacher, teaching me how to read, using these huge horizontal flash cards he probably imported from England, because while one card says “Daddy”, the other card said “Mummy”, w/c is British for mother, but my own mother did not want to be associated with something in bandages, so my Dad literally changed the letter U to an O, so I grew up calling my parents Daddy and Mommy.

To train me further in reading, when he would go on seminars on behalf of the University of the Philippines’ School of Urban & Regional Planning like those in the old Sulo Hotel, he made me look for his nameplate, saying if I didn’t read his name and title right, he’d get lost. Thankfully I’d get it right every time, he was an excellent, patient, & detailed teacher.

My Dad was also a very hands-on father, with very clear ideas about the kind of Values and Ethics my brother and I should have. He would personally drive us to and from school and co-curricular activities.

Lopez, Rodney Lopez (aka My Charming & Dashing Father)

He was always a charismatic guy, even at a young age I can tell some of my lady teachers were vainly attempting to flirt w/ him, and my little fellow students liked hanging around him.

In speaking of a bit of vanity, my father always had a huge collection of handkerchiefs that I started using too as a kid to mimic him, and for some reason he always used Pulbos or Talcum Powder on himself – maybe he thought he was too tan.

With my early childhood being in the late 70s & early 80s, my Dad always favored the Bukas Kuwelyo look, or open collar, one button undone – a classic style that I also inherited too.

My father was also an awesome Ballroom Dancer. My mother recalls how all her spinster high school friends would ask to dance with Daddy during their high school reunion. My Dad was ok w/ that, and so was my Mom – theirs was a very mature and secure relationship.

The Consummate & Versatile Professional

Yet, for all his GQishness, my Dad has always been the macho rugged architect. My father recalls literally growing up in caves during WW2, and he actually studied not only Architecture from German priests in Cebu’s University of San Carlos, but I believe he was also working on a Civil Engineering degree too.

He liked to joke that he was on the Top 20 Architecture Board Examinees of his licensing year by luckily landing as Number 19. He had wanted to be a Commissioned Military Officer, but at the time his chronic hypertension was still considered a major disqualifier, so he instead traveled the Philippines working with the government on many infrastructure projects, including I believe the Mactan International Airport.

I believe my Dad when he said that once some provincial judge tried to get him into a shotgun wedding with his daughter, my father was a catch!

Later on in his career he made buildings funded by major international aid agencies such as JICA, or the Japan International Cooperation Agency. He was also working on the continuing development of the town of Bacoor, Cavite. He had the full credentials & experience of someone who could have easily become at least an Undersecretary for Public Works.

He always used to tell me especially while I was in college at Ateneo that it is one thing to set up physical structures, it’s another thing to make human communities really work.

My father encouraged me to pursue the Development Studies degree that combines Sociology & Economics, because he sincerely believed that I had what it took to balance the human and the technical or financial to get things done. He also believed that there were better ways to develop communities beyond just government or private funding. He really wanted me to Innovate, not just Duplicate.

Man of Great Vision, Man of Down-to-Earth Practicality

My father also always wanted to expand his own horizons too. This explains why in our family basement library I found books of his from the Rosicrucians, the Jehovah’s Witnesses, Dale Carnegie courses, Norman Vincent Peale, and more. My father was always a life-long learner and critical thinker.

When something did not obviously fit with him or work out - such as that Jehovah’s Witness requirement of 15 minutes of daily ministering no matter how un-compelling & annoying one can get – he learns & moves on, he’s never into obsessive dwelling. This probably also explains why teaching & nurturing comes naturally to him too.

From him I learned for example to just brush or blow off dirt from dropped food, using the 5 second rule. He was also very much a do-it-yourself guy, making his own candles during blackouts for example.

I also distinctly remember once when I fell off a tree and my left leg got pierced by a nail, he drove all the way from University of the Philippines in Diliman to pick me up from my Paranaque nursery school, and he held my hand as that wound was treated.

I still have the scar, but I remember more from that my father being there for me, rather than me getting stupidly injured in the first place.

As a child I guess I was already such a thoroughly English-speaking character at a young age that somehow I landed in the Foreigners’ Class of Colegio San Agustin Makati Pre-School, and my father encouraged me to make friends w/ anyone regardless of what they look like, what their parents look like, what all these families did for a living or what countries they’re from, and so forth.

He thought me very early in life to not be shallow about relationships or goals. He thought me to be pleasantly surprised, as well as wisely discerning.

He also made sure that I wasn’t just going to turn into a hermit or snob by getting me to use school buses, take public transport, indulging in Filipino pop culture (not just all the imported colonial mentality-driven stuff!), and encouraging me to join lots of rugged events and activities that other so-called fellow “rich kids” wouldn’t even think of doing.

Thanks to that, I developed so many life-long quality friendships, and I have many adaptive skills that still serve me well today.

I learned from my Dad that balancing humility and dignity in any relationship really helps for a life well-lived, not just putting up w/ a life limited by socioeconomic class or stereotypes.

He also got me into Sunday School, and he even led a Junior Worship with me.

Amidst all this, my father was still a hard worker, not just in the office but even at home. He had a great big drafting board in our home basement, along with all these neat-looking instruments, and he was a bit of an insomniac, which is another trait my Dad and I share.

I recall many nights staying up late with my father watching Martial Arts TV series, eating Purefoods Hotdogs with rice, and when we tired of the TV, we just looked at the bright night stars.

From Bachelor to Family Man with the Right Woman (my Mother)

My father is also an inveterate romantic when it comes to my mother. They actually met while they were working on developing subdivisions – she was part of Accounting, he was with the Drafting. What started as some mutual friends claiming that one liked the other actually came true and stuck.

Now two passionately excellent & intelligent workaholics finally found each other and settled down in their mid-30s to have their own family together, and the romance, for all its kitschness or kabaduyan, never really ended.

In fact, one midnight as a 6 year old I woke up looking for my parents, and I found them in our living room, drinking bubbly champagne. I asked what was going on, and they said it was their 12th Wedding Anniversary, June 27, 1982, and they explained to me what love was, what marriage is, and their hope for me that if it is meant for me, I would also be blessed with a great marriage & family of my own as an adult . . . .

25 Years Prior – How My Dad Fought Back Against Coma & Death to Keep Our Family Together

Roughly six months after that, after enjoying a wonderful office Christmas party the night before, I was sleeping in the kiddie bed of the master bedroom when at around 4 am on a Sunday morning, December 12, I was awaken by a loud thud.

My father was having a severe seizure, and my tall strong mother managed to drag him down to the car. I did not understand at all what was going on. I thought they were playing a game.

It was only when relatives from both sides of my family started coming to the house, and when I started hearing the words Stroke, and Hypertension and Blood Pressure and Intensive Care Unit/ICU did I gradually understand. My macho, intelligent, charismatic, doting professional father was very ill. His congenital large heart/blood pressure condition he had been fighting all his lean life (he was never fat, you know!) was threatening to finally kill him.

Things were so bad that awful Christmas season that initially, I was not even allowed to see him because I was only 6 years old at the time – you had to be at least 7 years old to be in the ICU or Intensive Care Unit.

But somewhere down the line I was admitted in there, and somewhere down the line my mother was up front with me and my then 11 year old brother Rodin aka Nonoy. Our father might die. Our father has all these tubes sticking out of him, and he might never wake up. We might need to turn the machines off.

My Kuya Nonoy cried. He was old enough to fully understand. He was already around when my Dad had his 1st stroke some years before my birth. People say my Dad at least quit smoking after that, and I got conceived & born.

My early childhood was spent seeing him drink that Aspirin-based anti-hypertension medicine. At the time there were no Lipitors, Benicars, Vytorin, Cholesterol-Lowering Honey Nut Cheerios, or other daily preventive remedies – it was just plain Aspirin whatever or nothing, which we now all know in hindsight were nowhere near enough to avoid certain medical mishaps . . . .

All that said, in my innocence, I only asked that we pray. And we did, and just when the plug was about to be pulled, my father raises his finger.

He manages to wake up, and he is still my father, but physically he was never going to be the same. His Architecture practice would have to end. His drawing arm has been paralyzed, as well as another leg. At least he can still think and clearly talk.

And it was from this clearly thinking & talking father who just
happened to be in a wheelchair that I learned even more. He informally but consistently tutored me on anything from World History to Math to Science and even Entrepreneurship.

We also would watch the same telenovelas, TV movies, news programs, boxing matches and more on the TV together, and what was interesting about that was instead of just being wordless zombies in front of the screen, we also tended to talk out loud about what could happen next in the plot, or he starts being the sensible Architect all over again, saying things like “How could that Ark support all those animals? Did they have any toilets? What degree angle was that”, and so forth . . . Think sharply or don’t think at all might as well be our shared motto.

My father also taught me to love animals, especially dogs, which is why even here in America I have my own dog, Lexi. This is also why our long-time spotted dog Tweety finally died in 1999, both he and I cried a lot.

Dogs to him were more than just pets, they were his loyal, unconditional, reliable friends, his security.

Never An Excuse-Seeker or Malingerer; A Great Man wiho just happens to be Infirm, Not just an Infirm Man

He also taught me dignity in treating other people fairly too. For example, without fail he would have some cash tip money for the mailman that delivers his pension & dividend checks.

Technically my father could just say he’s disabled on limited income himself, but my Dad always believed in compensating even if only modestly professionally rendered services. He was just never into the slave-driving haciendero mentality.

My Dad also got me to sell Ice & Ice Candies to nearby construction workers, talking about the value of the cottage industry, and also a little bit about Marketing, my core vocation. Ice sells faster when a clean cute little neighborhood kid sells it.

He also taught me to save & invest money, to not spoil or go into debt myself on quick treats when I could be gaining more wealth. Living here in the ever-indulgent USA, I realize that not every parent can effectively teach or model this. My father did.

My father was also always the Court of First Instance or Appeals too. Dads mean fun, mothers mean business, but sometimes the roles get reversed. Having an older brother of course there were sibling fights my Dad broke up.

My father was also always a gracious audience to whatever I was doing, may it be piano playing, monologue acting, and even Writing, another core vocation of mine.

My father several times had cried for me and kept on telling me not to give up on myself or think that I was worth nothing, when my young adult years endured significant physical pain from carpal tunnel surgery, as well as the psychological stresses & abuses that started accumulating from some unhealthy personal & professional relationships during my first tough years in the workplace.

Sometimes, my father would express that his wheelchair-bound condition may have limited some options & opportunities for me & my brother. Sometimes as I got older he’d tell me that he wishes he was well enough to fully work so he could directly pay for even more advantages for us.

For me, I care more about the fact that my father was always behind the scenes influencing my decisions & actions throughout my growing years.

One would think that after losing use of half of one’s body that bitterness & rage would dominate the rest of one’s remaining life.

In my Dad’s case, to be fair he always had a bit of a passionate temper about work, values, and the like even way before his 1st stroke, and this passion for excellence & accountability still stayed with him through the very end that around a year ago, one of our newer housekeepers had to ask me if my father had always been Strict.

Funny, here in America I’m also known for being a passionate hard-ass too, it must proudly run in our veins and family. My Dad never taught me or my brother to just be corrupt or mediocre.

My Dad was only human to at times feel pain & regret, but then he brushes it off and was still there for me and the next generation of Lopezes, my brother’s 3 daughters and one son.

My Mom and my Dad were also always a team, always complementary to each other, always equals, and always consulting each other about business, family, health, and more.

Other lesser men who have had strokes or tragedies tend to dwell on these too much, tend to blame others, sue others, feel entitlement, or start getting lazy or become malingering con artists thriving on other people’s relative naivete, good faith, and pity.

Still My Father Even Long-Distance, Even As I Made Mistakes

I unfortunately realized a little too late that my first husband was of that overly self-serving pity machine & con artist mold, and that marriage had to end – and my father, before a lingering aneurysm started to blot his memory, took my two-hour long distance phone call from me in California years ago about my impending divorce, and he supported my decision to move on, and to find myself & free myself in my new home country, away from stereotypes & negativity.

He said that I should never think that just because someone had a rough time in his/her own sob story life (ex. My ex-husband’s parents were bitterly divorced, and their constant financial stresses & some ignorant old world chauvinist thinking apparently caused my 1st husband to grow up w/ a very obsessive streak for egotistical status & narcissistic living at any cost – even significantly ruining my own life in the process, lying to my face and doing too many hurtful things behind my back even after the many significant sacrifices I made for him, unfortunately), that I have to feel that I need to excuse their essentially evil & deceptive behavior towards me.

He gently but firmly reminded me that no one has the right to lie, cheat, or steal from anyone. It should not matter whether or not my origins were more comfortable than others. It’s not my fault that others had things bad, and anyone knows that my life’s work is always about helping others first, so why should I suffer forever for others’ willfully ignorant and/or super-bad choices?

What matters is being treated justly, and he assured me that some major league karma will come back to haunt anyone who hurts me, and that my ex-husband of all people should know that, because it is from his paternal culture where the word karma apparently came from after all . . .

And for good measure, Dad used good old humor to cheer me up, and at the risk of possibly offending some people, I do have to say one of the ways he cheered me up as I was getting used to not having my 1st spouse in my life anymore was by effectively & sarcastically parodying his country of origin's very distinct accent rather too well.

Dad said I should never lose so much respect for myself, to the point of having to listen to my former husband or his family & friends keep on lecturing me about how things are/should be done, or how women are treated “In My Country”, “Do They Think You Owe Them Dowry?”, etc. He reminded me that I am in 21st Century America, not in their old country or mores . . .

That said, my father I think also managed to live so long after that massive 1982 stroke because of his amazing sense of humor.

He love cracking one-liners out of nowhere, and sometimes he ends up laughing so much about a joke he has in mind we never really get to hear the whole joke, he’s just laughing a lot. I got that habit too.

My late grandmother, Honoria Nocon Bauson Gelle, my mother’s mother, apparently also always appreciated my father’s sense of humor and can-do spirit, which is why she actually liked staying at our modest Better Living bungalow.

There’s something to be said about sons-in-law and mothers-in-law who actually get along that way.

My father was always a diplomatic and gracious person. Like many husbands he may not have always liked the rather irritating to toxic attitudes or behaviors of some of his in-laws or other people, but he at least had the grace to never be petty, or never demand special treatment or consideration.

He still taught me to respect my elders no matter how “trying” they can be, he taught me the value of agreeing to disagree and move on, for even based on his own example, life as a whole is really just too short to spend on pettiness . . .

All this being said, I am extremely broken-hearted about his passing. In the more recent years, my father’s memory with regards to me practically erases the part about me ever being married or even moving to the USA.

The last time I spoke w/ him, it was during my 32nd birthday, and he thought I was just working in Manila. Still, he remembered enough to know it was my birthday, and that Mother’s Day was also around the corner, and he promised that he’s going to make sure he and my Mom would have a great dinner together for that . . .

I was planning to come to Manila on business possibly this December with the Ayala Foundation & Community Share, but I guess my Dad’s time to finally walk in heaven has come.

I wish if/when I have my next wedding and marriage, he would have led me down the aisle. I wish if it were meant o be, I could have given him grandchildren. There is so much more positive going on with me over time that I wanted to share with him.

Dad was the only person who ever called me Inday. What I would give to have him call me that just once more.

But for now, he is at peace, joining his own beloved parents.

The Rodney Lopezes and their Last Hurrah for Daddy

My brother and I are grown, respected, resilient, and accomplished adult professionals in two continents because in great part my father showed us both that life, dignity, or values does not have to end or be ever compromised with physical infirmity.

Rodney Casimero Lopez was my father.

Daddy, I love him very much. I miss you very much. I miss eating merienda like Taho, fried bananas, and champorado with you. I miss how you crumple all the newspapers before I get to read them each morning because you never liked wearing reading glasses anyway. I miss how you keep on trying to guess the winning Lotto numbers. I miss the thought-provoking discussions we would have about anything & everything like religion, politics, or even just movies.

You’re the only other family member like me who remembers every single movie actor & line. I think I got my monster memory for both visuals & auditory stuff from you.

I will definitely also miss you asking yet again for another Polo shirt for your birthday.

I hope you are walking again now, and I thank God and you forever for staying alive for 25 more years being my father and being my mother’s husband.

It makes all the difference that you held on so long. I am so sorry that I could not come home to the Philippines sooner one last time to see you alive.

Then again, I remembered what you told me as I was about to board the plane for my much needed American vacation/retreat away from overwhelming personal/professional stresses in June 2001.

You said that whatever happens, wherever I may be, I should remember who I am, how you raised me, and eventually with God's grace I will be able to really find my authentically happy self, and I will always find myself happily home.

Home is not a physical place. It is a state of mind and choice, it is where one is free to be oneself living in peaceful & interdependent coexistence w/ others, regardless of physical limitations.

Dad, you are now home with God, and when my time comes to be up there too, please just be the one to pick me up to take me home, just as you had always done when I was a little pre-school girl.

Not all the money or fame or power in the world I may still stand to get will ever replace a father's true love, and for that I will always miss you, and for that I am eternally grateful to you for staying alive as long as you did.

I love you Daddy, and through this lasting online & broadcast memorial, I honor you.

Thank you all for listening and for coming.***

يضع أبي أن يستريح ([رودني] [كسمرو] [لوبز], 1935-2008)
Automatically translated into Arabic thanks to WorldLingo
يتذكّر أبي, [رودني] [ك.]. يعيش [لوبز]
(مسوّدة المديح أن يكون أرجعت إمّا ب [فيديو] أو أن يكون قرأت ب [سستر-ين-لو] ي, [أمثست] [لوبز] بندقيّة, بمناسبة أبي جنازة في يونيو - حزيران 26, يوم الخميس, في مانيلاّ)

من [لس فغس] (بحزن)
مرحبا, ل أنّ من أنت الذي لا يعرفني أو على الأرجح لا يميّزني بعد الآن, اسمي [رهونا] [كريستي] [جلّ] [لوبز], وأنا الوحيدة ابنة و [يوونغ شلد] إلى [رودني] [كسمرو] [لوبز].

أنا حقّا أردت أن يسافر إلى الخلف هناك أن يتلاقى الإستراحة من أنت في يقول وداعا إلى أبي, غير أنّ حصص الظروف في الطريق, ويعرف أنا أنّ على الأقلّ ي أم وأخ يحتاج هم خاصّة إغلاق قريبا على هذا.

هكذا يقرّر أنا يتلقّى بألم أن لا أتيت للأثر وجنازة هناك في مانيلاّ بنفسي, وهذا مرئيّة ومديح متوفّر على شبكة الإنترنات, أيّ يكون جعلت بعون خطيبتي, ماريو [سنتمريا], هنا في نا [لس فغس] منزل & مكتب, ي خاصّة مساهمة إلى هذا حادث.

إن هذا يصوّت بالأحرى [سكريبت] في إنجليزيّة, أيّ فقط يحدث أن يكون اللغة من عملي هنا في أمريكا كتلفزيون منتج & تسويق محترفة للسابقة 7 سنون, هو فقط لأنّ أنا أكون أيضا جدّا قهرت مع عاطفة حاليّا, ويتلقّى نص الطريق وحيدة أنا يستطيع اتّصلت دون فقط يخسر هو صحّ أمام كلّ من أنت.

إلى ما بعد الكرسيّ ذو عجلات & أبي يقارب
[بهيند-ث-سنس] أنا أتكلّم الآن لأنّ أنا يضطرّ قلت أنّ ل ال [لت قورتر] قرن, المتأخّرة 25 سنون, أبي قد كان نسبيّا خفيّة بسبب ه [وهيلشير-بووند] دولة.

أنا أريد الناس أن يعرف الذي أبي كان. أنا أريد الناس أن يعرف أنّ يكون هو يتلقّى دائما جزء مهمّة من حياتي, وهو كان قد حقّق كثيرا شخصيّا & احترافيّا, يجعل فرق عظيمة في [ا لوت] من أخرى الناس حيوات & أعمال أيضا.

أنا أريد الناس أن يعرف أنّ أنا فخور من ه, وسيفتقده أنا بيأس.

تركني معلمتي
أولى بداية أولى ب يقول أنّ أنا يتلقّى دائما أكون [ددّي] بنت. ذاكراتي أولى من أبي من ه يكون جدّا ينقّط. هو غنّىني تهويدات هو اصطلح & مارس من عمل. هو تركني لعبت مع شعره متموّجة سوداء سميكة, أنّ أنا ظاهريّا يتلقّى أيضا أرث.

هو كان أيضا [فري موش] معلمة طبيعيّة, يعلمني كيف أن يقرأ, يستعمل هذا بطاقات ضخمة أفقيّة خاطفة استورد هو على الأرجح من إنكلترا, لأنّ بينما واحدة بطاقة يقول "[ددّي]", الأخرى بطاقة قال "مومياء", [و/ك] بريطانيّة لأم, غير أنّ ي خاصّة أم لم يرد أن يكون صحبت مع شيء في ضمادات, لذلك أبي حرفيّا غيّر الحرف [أو] إلى [و], لذلك أنا نمات فوق يدعو واجداتي [ددّي] وأم.

أن يدرّبني أبعد في قراءة, عندما ذهب هو على حلقة دراسيّة [أن بهلف وف] الجامعة من فليبين' مدرسة من مدنيّة & [رجونل بلنّينغ] مثل أنّ في القديمة [سولو] فندق, هو جعلني فتّشت لوحت اسمه, مثل إن أنا لم أقرأ اسمه ولقّب بشكل صحيح, هو حصل ضائعة. [ثنكفولّي] حصل أنا هو حق [إفري تيم], هو كان ممتازة, صبور, & معلمة مفصّلة.

كان أبي أيضا أب ميدانيّة جدّا, مع أفكار واضحة جدّا حول النوع القيم وعلم خلقي أخ وأنا سوفت يتلقّى. هو شخصيّا قادنا [تو ند فروم] مدرسة وأنشطة [ك-كرّيكلر].

[لوبز], [رودني] [لوبز] ([أكا] ي يفتن & يندفع أب)
كان هو دائما شدادة ساحرة, حتّى في عمر شابّة أنا يستطيع قلت بعض من سيدتي معلمات كان عبثا حاولوا أن يقذف مع ه, وي صغيرة رفيقة طالبات أحبّوا يعلق حول ه.

في يتكلّم من [ا بيت وف] تفاهة, تلقّى أبي دائما تجميع ضخمة مناديل أنّ أنا بدأت يستعمل أيضا كجدية أن يقلّده, و [فور سم رسن] هو دائما استعمل [بولبوس] أو [تلكم] مسحوق على بنفسي - ربّما هو فكّر هو كان أيضا [تن].

مع طفولتي مبكّرة يكون [إين ث لت] سبعينات & مبكّرة ثمانينات, فضّل أبي دائما [بوكس] [كوولو] نظرة, أو طوق مفتوحة, واحدة زرّ يفكّ - أسلوب كلاسيكيّة أنّ أنا أيضا ورثت أيضا.

كان أبي أيضا مروّعة قاعة رقص راقصة. ي أم إستدعاءات كيف كلّه عانس مدرسة ثانويّة صديقات سألوا أن يرقص مع [ددّي] أثناء هم مدرسة ثانويّة إجتماع. كان أبي [أك] مع أنّ, ولذلك كان [موم] ي - خاصّتي كانوا جدّا ناضجة ويؤمّن علاقة.

المكتملة & يكون محترفة
متعدّد استعمال بعد, لكلّه [غقيشنسّ], أبي يتلقّى دائما المعماري ذكوريّ متينة. يتذكّر أبي حرفيّا ينمو فوق في كهوف أثناء [وّ2], وهو واقعيّا درس ليس فحسب الهندسة المعماريّة من كاهن ألمانيّة في سيبو جامعة ال [سن] كارلوس, غير أنّ أنا أصدق هو كان أيضا عمل على [سفيل نجنيرينغ] درجة أيضا.

هو أحبّ أن يداعب أنّ كان هو على العلويّة 20 الهندسة المعماريّة لوح ممتحنات من ه يرخّص سنة ب لحسن الحظّ يهبط كرقم 19. هو أراد أن يكون ينتدب ضابطة عسكريّة, غير أنّ [أت ث تيم] اعتبرت ارتفاع ضغطه مزمنة كان بعد كبريات [ديسقوليفير], لذلك هو بدلا من ذلك سافر فليبين يعمل مع الحكومة على كثير بنية أساسيّة مشاريع, يتضمّن أنا يصدق [مكتن] مطار دوليّة.

أنا أصدق أبي عندما قال هو أنّ مرّة بعض قاضية ريفيّة يحاول أن يحصله داخل بندقيّة رشّ عرس مع ابنته, أبي كان مزلاج!

[لتر ون ين] مهنته جعل هو بنايات يموّل بكبريات دوليّة معونة وكالات مثل [جيك], أو اليابان دوليّة تعاون وكالة. عمل هو كان أيضا على ال يستمرّ تطوير من المدينة [بكور], [كفيت]. هو تلقّى ال يشبع ورقة اعتماد & خبرة من أحد ما الذي استطاع يتلقّى بسهولة أصبحت [أوندرسكرتري] ل [بوبليك ووركس].

هو دائما استعمل أن يقولني خصوصا بينما أنا كنت في كلية في [أتنيو] أنّ هو واحدة شيء أن يثبت فوق بنى طبيعيّة, هو آخر شيء أن يجعل جماعات إنسانيّة حقّا عملت.

شجّعني أبي أن يتتبّع التطوير دراسات درجة أنّ يضمّ علم اجتماع & علم اقتصاد, لأنّ هو بإخلاص صدق أنّ أنا تلقّيت ماذا هو أخذ إلى ميزان الإنسان والفنّيّة أو ماليّة أن يحصل أشياء يتمّ. هو أيضا صدق أنّ كان هناك طرق جيّدة أن يطوّر جماعات إلى ما بعد حكومة صحيحة أو خاصّة يموّل. هو حقّا أرادني أن يبتكر, لا نسخة مطابقة صحيحة.

رجل من رؤية عظيمة, رجل من [دوون-تو-رث] [بركتيكليتي]
أبي أيضا دائما أراد أن يمدّد ه خاصّة آفاق أيضا. هذا يفسّر لما في نا أسرة طابق سفلي مكتبة أنا أسّست كتب من خاصّتي من [روسكروسنس], [جهوفه] شواهد, واد [كرنج] مسالك, فانسنت نورمنديّ [بل], وأكثر. كان أبي دائما [ليف-لونغ] طالبة ومفكرة حرجة.

عندما لاءم شيء لم بوضوح مع ه أو تطوّرت - مثل أنّ [جهوفه] شاهدة متطلب من 15 دقائق من يوميّة يسعف [نو متّر هوو] [أون-كمبلّينغ] & يضأيق واحدة يستطيع حصلت - هو يعلم & يتحرّك فوق, هو أبدا داخل مسكن إستحواذيّ. يفسّر هذا على الأرجح أيضا لما يعلم & رعى يأتي بشكل طبيعيّ إلى ه أيضا.

من ه علم أنا مثلا أن فقط فرشت أو [بلوو وفّ] وسخ من يسقط طعام, يستعمل ال 5 ثاني قاعدة. هو كان أيضا [فري موش] إعمل بنفسك شدادة, يجعل ه خاصّة شمعات أثناء تعتيمات مثلا.

يتذكّر أنا أيضا بوضوح مرّة عندما أنا [فلّ] من شجرة وساقي يسرى حصل يخترق بمسمار, هو قاد [ألّ ث] طريق من جامعة من فليبين في [ديليمن] أن يلتقطني فوق من ي [برنقو] [نورسري سكهوول], وهو أمسك يدي بما أنّ أنّ جرح كان عاملت.

أنا بعد أتلقّى الشطب, غير أنّ يتذكّر أنا أكثر من أنّ ي أب يكون هناك ل ي, [رثر ثن] ي يحصل [ستثبيدلي] يجرح في المكان أولى.

بما أنّ طفلة أنا أخمّن كان أنا سابقا هذا رمز الناطق بالإنجليزيّة تماما في عمر شابّة أنّ بطريقة ما أنا هبطت في الأجنبيات' صنف من [كلجو] [سن] [أغستين] [مكتي] [بر-سكهوول], وأبي شجّعني أن يجعل صديقات مع أيّ شخص [رغردلسّ وف] ماذا هم ينظرون مثل, ماذا والدهم ينظرون مثل, ماذا كلّ هذا أسرات أتمّوا لمعيشة أو ما بلاد هم يكونون من, [أند س فورث].

هو فكّرني جدّا باكرا في حياة أن لا [ب] ضحلة حول علاقات أو أهداف. هو فكّرني أن يكون على نحو ممتع فاجأت, [أس ولّ س] بحكمة يتبيّن.

هو أيضا تأكّد أنّ [ب] أنا لم صحيحة يذهب أن يلتفت داخل ناسكة أو نفاجة ب يحصلني أن يستعمل مدرسة حافلات, وشكور إلى أنّ كثير من ي [ليف-لونغ] صديقات [كم ووت وف] هناك.

هو أيضا حصلني داخل [سوندي سكهوول], وقاد هو حتّى عبادة صغرى مع ي.

في كلّ كان هذا, أبي بعد يستعصي عاملة, لا فقط في المكتب غير أنّ يتساوى [أت هوم]. هو تلقّى [درفت بوأرد] عظيمة كبيرة في طابق سفلينا بيتيّ, مع كلّ هذا [نت-لووكينغ] أجهزة, وكان هو [ا بيت وف] مؤرّقة, أيّ يكون آخر سمة أبي وأنا أشارك.

أنا أتذكّر كثير ليال يبقى فوق متأخّرا مع أبي يراقب حربيّة فنيات تلفزيون [سري], يأكل [بورفوودس] شطيرة سجق مع أرز, وعندما أتعب نحن من التلفزيون, نحن فقط نظرنا في الساطعة ليلة نجوم.

من أعزب إلى أسرة رجل مع ال يصحّ إمرأة (أمي)
أبي أيضا متأصّلة رومانسيّة عندما يأتي هو إلى أمي. هم واقعيّا التقوا بينما هم كان عملوا على يطوّر تقسيم جزئيّ - كان هو جزء المحاسبة, هو كان مع ال يسحب. ماذا بدأ ك بعض صديقات متبادلة يدّعي أنّ أحبّ واحدة الأخرى واقعيّا أتى يصحّ وب التصق.

الآن أسّس اثنان [بسّيونتلي] ممتازة & [ووركهوليك] ذكيّة أخيرا بعضهم بعضا وقرّر إلى أسفل في [ميد-30س] هم أن يتلقّى هم خاصّة أسرة معا, والرومانسيّة, لكلّه [كيتسكهنسّ] أو [كبدون], أبدا حقّا ينهي.

[إين فكت], واحدة منتصف ليل ك 6 [ير-ولد] أنا أفقت يفتّش والدي, وأسّسهم أنا في [ليفينغ رووم] نا, يشرب شامبانيا [بوبّلي]. أنا سألت ماذا كان ذهب فوق, وقال هم هو كان هم [12ث] عرس ذكرى, يونيو - حزيران 27, 1982, وهم فسّروا إلى ي ماذا حالة حبّ كان, ما زواج يكون, وأملهم ل ي أنّ إن هو يكون عنيت ل ي, أنا أيضا كنت باركت مع عظيمة زواج & أسرة من ي خاصّة كبالغ. . . .

25 سنون سابقة - كيف أبي تنازع إلى الخلف ضدّ حالة سبات & موت أن يحافظ أسرتنا معا
تقريبا ستّة شهور بعد أنّ, بعد يستمتع رائعة مكتب عيد ميلاد المسيح حزب الليلة قبل, نام أنا كان في ال [كيدّي] سرير من الغرفة نوم رئيسيّة عندما حوالي 4 قبل الظّهر على يوم الأحد صباح, ديسمبر - كانون الأوّل 12, أنا كنت يوقظ بارتطام مرتفعة.

كان أبي في قبض, وأمي طويلة قوّيّة أدار أن يجرّه إلى أسفل إلى السيارة. أنا لم أفهم في كلّ ماذا كان ذهب فوق. أنا فكّرت لعب هم كان لعبة.

هو كان فقط عندما قريبات من كلا جوانب من أسرتي بدأوا يأتي إلى المنزل, وعندما أنا بدأت يسمع الكلمات إصابة, وارتفاع ضغط و [بلوود برسّور] و [إيك] أنا تدريجيّا فهم. ي ذكوريّ, ذكيّة, ساحرة, كان ينقّط أب محترفة جدّا مريضة, وفي البداية أنا كان لم حتّى سمحت أن يرىه لأنّ أنا كنت فقط 6 [ير ولد] [أت ث تيم] - أنت اضطرّ كنت على الأقلّ 7 [ير ولد] أن يكون في ال [إيك] أو [إينتنسف كر ونيت].

غير أنّ في مكان ما نزولا إلى الخطّ اعترفت أنا كان داخل هناك, وفي مكان ما نزولا إلى الخطّ أمي كان فوق جبهة مع ي وي بعد ذلك 11 [ير-ولد] أخ. أبنا أمكن متت. يتلقّى أبنا كلّ هذا أنابيب ب التصق من ه, وهو أمكن أبدا أفقت. نحن أمكن احتجت أن يلتفت الآلات باتّجاه آخر.

صرخ [كوا] ي [نونوي]. هو كان قديمة بكفاية أن كلّيّا فهمت. هو كان سابقا حول عندما أبي تلقّى ه [1ست] إصابة بعض سنون قبل ولادتي. الناس يقولون ي أب على الأقلّ يترك يدخّن بعد أنّ, وحصل أنا يتصوّر & [بورن].

أنفقت طفولتي مبكّرة كان يرىه شربت أنّ [أسبيرين-بسد] [أنتي-هبرتنسون] الطبّ. [أت ث تيم] كان هناك ما من [ليبيتورس], [بنيكرس], [فتورين], أشياء أنّ أنا الآن آخذ بما أنّ أنا كنت قد اكتشفت في ي متأخّرة عشرينات هنا في ال [أوسا] أنّ أنا قد ورثت أبي ارتفاع ضغط مزمنة أيضا - هو كان فقط أسبرين جلّيّة ماذا أو لاشيء.

كلّ أنّ يقول, في براءتي, أنا فقط سألت أنّ يصلّي نحن. وأتمّ نحن, و [جوست وهن] السدادة كان حوالي أن يكون سحبت, أبي يرفع إصبعه.

هو يدير أن يفيق, وهو بعد أبي, غير أنّ طبيعيّا ذهب هو كان أبدا أن يكون ال نفس. ه الهندسة المعماريّة اضطرّ ممارسة أنهيت. شللت ه يسحب سلاح يتلقّى يكون, [أس ولّ س] آخر ساق. على الأقلّ هو يستطيع ساكنة فكّرت وبوضوح تحدّثت.

وكان هو من هذا بوضوح يفكّر & يتحدّث أب الذي فقط
حدث أن يكون في كرسيّ ذو عجلات أنّ أنا علمت [إفن مور]. درّبني هو بشكل غير رسميّ غير أنّ باستمرار على أيّ شيء من عالم تاريخ إلى رياضيات إلى علم وحتّى روح إقدام.

نحن أيضا راقبنا ال نفسه [تلنوفلس], تلفزيون أفلام, أخبار برنامج, [بوإكسينغ متش] وأكثر على التلفزيون معا, وماذا كان ممتعة حول أنّ كانوا [إينستد وف] صحيحة كنت [زومبي] [ووردلسّ] أمام الشاشة, نحن أيضا ملنا أن يتحدّث خارجا عاليّا حول ماذا استطاع حدثت بعد ذلك في الخطة, أو هو يبدأ يكون المعماري محسوسة ثانية, [سينغ] أشياء مثل "كيف استطاع أنّ صندوق ساندت كلّ أنّ حيوانات? هم تلقّوا أيّ مراحيض? ما درجة زاوية كان أنّ", [أند س فورث]. . . فكّرت بحدّة أو لا يفكّر في كلّ أمكن أيضا كنت نا يشارك شعار.

علمني أبي أيضا أن يحبّ حيوانات, خصوصا كلاب, أيّ يكون لما حتّى هنا في أمريكا أنا أتلقّى ي خاصّة كلب, [لإكسي]. هذا أيضا عندما نا [لونغ-تيم] [سبوتّد] كلب [تويتي] أخيرا مات في 1999, على حدّ سواء هو وأنا صرخت كثيرا.

كان كلاب إلى ه أكثر من فقط محبوبات, هم كانوا ه مخلصة, غير مشروط, صديقات موثوقة, أمنه.

لا فقط أيّ [إإكسكس-سكر] أو [ملينجرر]; عظيمة رجل يحدث [ويهو] فقط أن يكون عاجزة, لا صحيحة رجل
عاجزة هو أيضا علمني كرامة في يعامل أخرى الناس تماما أيضا. مثلا, [ويثووت فيل] تلقّى هو بعض نقد طرف مال لالساعي بريد أنّ يسلّم ه معاش تدقيقات.

تقنيّا أبي استطاع فقط قلت قد أعجز هو على دخل محدودة بنفسي, غير أنّ أبي دائما يصدق في يعوّض [إفن يف] فقط بتواضع احترافيّا يرجع خدمات. هو كان صحيحة أبدا داخل ال [سلف-دريفينغ] [هسندرو] عقلية.

حصلني أبي أيضا أن يبيع جليد & جليد سكّر نبات إلى قريبة بناء عاملات, [تلك بووت] القيمة من ال [كتّج يندوستري], وأيضا [ا ليتّل بيت] حول تسويق, ي لبن مهنة. جليد يبيع [فستر] عندما نظيفة جذّابة صغيرة جوار يبيع جدية هو.

هو أيضا علمني أن ينقذ & استثمرت مال, أن لا نهبت أو ذهبت داخل دين بنفسي على متع سريعة عندما أنا استطاع كنت كسبت كثير ثروة. يعيش هنا في ال [أوسا] [إفر-يندولجنت], يحقّق أنا أنّ لا كلّ والد يستطيع بشكل فعّال علمت أو شكّلت هذا. My father did.

My father was also always the Court of First Instance or Appeals too. Dads mean fun, mothers mean business, but sometimes the roles get reversed. Having an older brother of course there were sibling fights my Dad broke up.

My father was also always a gracious audience to whatever I was doing, may it be piano playing, monologue acting, and even Writing, another core vocation of mine.

My father several times had cried for me and kept on telling me not to give up on myself or think that I was worth nothing when my young adult years endured significant physical pain from carpal tunnel surgery, as well as the psychological stresses & abuses that started accumulating from some unhealthy personal & professional relationships during my first tough years in the workplace.

Sometimes, my father would express that his wheelchair-bound condition may have limited some options & opportunities for me & my brother. Sometimes as I got older he’d tell me that he wishes he was well enough to fully work so my Graduate Schooling may be paid for.

For me, I care more about the fact that my father was always behind the scenes influencing my decisions & actions throughout my growing years.

One would think that after losing use of half of one’s body that bitterness & rage would dominate the rest of one’s remaining life.

In my Dad’s case, to be fair he always had a bit of a passionate temper about work, values, and the like even way before his 1st stroke, and this passion for excellence & accountability still stayed with him through the very end that around a year ago, one of our newer housekeepers had to ask me if my father had always been Strict.

Funny, here in America I’m also known for being a passionate hard-ass too, it must proudly run in our veins and family. My Dad never taught me or my brother to just be corrupt or mediocre.

My Dad was only human to at times feel pain & regret, but then he brushes it off and was still there for me and the next generation of Lopezes, my brother’s 3 daughters and one son.

My Mom and my Dad were also always a team, always complementary to each other, always equals, and always consulting each other about business, family, health, and more.

Other lesser men who have had strokes or tragedies tend to dwell on these too much, tend to blame others, sue others, feel entitlement, or start getting lazy or become malingering con artists thriving on pity.

Still My Father Even Long-Distance, Even As I Made Mistakes
I unfortunately realized a little too late that my first husband was of that overly self-serving pity machine mold, and that marriage had to end – and my father, before a lingering aneurysm started to blot his memory, took my two-hour long distance phone call from me in California years ago about my impending divorce, and he supported my decision to move on, and to find myself & free myself in my new home country, away from stereotypes & negativity.

And for good measure, Dad used humor to cheer me up, and at the risk of possibly offending some people, I do have to say one of the ways he cheered me up as I was getting used to not having my 1st spouse in my life anymore byt parodying the his country of origin's accent rather too well.

Dad said I should never lose so much respect for myself to the point of having to listen to my former husband or his family & friends keep on lecturing me about how things are/should be done, or how women are treated “In My Country”, “Do They Think You Owe Them Dowry?”, etc. He reminded me that I am in 21st Century America, not in their old country or mores . . .

My father I think also managed to live so long after that massive 1982 stroke because of his amazing sense of humor.

He love cracking one-liners out of nowhere, and sometimes he ends up laughing so much about a joke he has in mind we never really get to hear the whole joke, he’s just laughing a lot. I got that habit too.

My late grandmother, Honoria Gelle, my mother’s mother, apparently also always appreciated my father’s sense of humor and can-do spirit, which is why she actually liked staying at our modest Better Living bungalow.

There’s something to be said about sons-in-law and mothers-in-law who actually get along that way.

My father was always a diplomatic and gracious person. Like many husbands he may not have always liked the rather irritating to toxic attitudes or behaviors of some of his in-laws or other people, but he at least had the grace to never be petty, or never demand special treatment or consideration.

He still taught me to respect my elders no matter how “trying” they can be, he taught me the value of agreeing to disagree and move on, for even based on his own example, life as a whole is really just too short to spend on pettiness . . .

All this being said, I am extremely broken-hearted about his passing. In the more recent years, my father’s memory with regards to me practically erases the part about me ever being married or even moving to the USA.

The last time I spoke w/ him, it was during my 32nd birthday, and he thought I was just working in Manila. Still, he remembered enough to know it was my birthday, and that Mother’s Day was also around the corner, and he promised that he’s going to make sure he and my Mom would have a great dinner together for that . . .

I was planning to come to Manila on business possibly this December with the Ayala Foundation & Community Share, but I guess my Dad’s time to finally walk in heaven has come.

I wish my fiance Mario would have met him. I wish my next wedding and marriage, he would have led me down the aisle. I wish I could have given him grandchildren. There is so much more positive going on with me over time that I wanted to share with him.

Dad was the only person who ever called me Inday. What I would give to have him call me that just once more.

But for now, he is at peace, joining his own beloved parents.

The Rodney Lopezes and their Last Hurrah for Daddy
My brother and I are grown, respected, resilient, and accomplished adult professionals in two continents because in great part my father showed us both that life, dignity, or values does not have to end or be ever compromised with physical infirmity.

Rodney Casimero Lopez was my father.

Daddy, I love him very much. I miss you very much. I miss eating merienda like Taho, fried bananas, and champorado with you. I miss how you crumple all the newspapers before I get to read them each morning because you never liked wearing reading glasses anyway. I miss how you keep on trying to guess the winning Lotto numbers. I miss the thought-provoking discussions we would have about anything & everything like religion, politics, or even just movies.

You’re the only other family member like me who remembers every single movie actor & line. I think I got my monster memory for both visuals & auditory stuff from you.

I will definitely also miss you asking yet again for another Polo shirt for your birthday.

I hope you are walking again now, and I thank God and you forever for staying alive for 25 more years being my father and being my mother’s husband.

It makes all the difference that you held on so long. I am so sorry that I nor this man who will be my new husband and father to your next batch of grandchildren could not come home sooner.

Thank you all for listening and for coming.***