REMEMBERING MY FATHER - EVD

My sainted father, Domingo Dimapiles Dulay, was born on May 12, 1903 in San Rafael, Bulacan, the second and the oldest boy in his family of 5 children. I have always wondered if perhaps his mother had a trace of Greek ancestry -(Dimapiles...Onassis... Callas...) Tsk...tsk...it might just be possible...plus it was widely accepted that even in her 70's, with her wrinkles and all, Impo (Eustaquia) was a strikingly beautiful older woman. Too bad it didn't rub off on her kids and grandkids.

It must have been the proximity that brought my parents together - my mother Dolores Veron, was from Caingin, a suburb of San Rafael. After marriage, they settled in Malolos where my mother was a pre-war school teacher and my father was the Chief Clerk in the Division Office. I was told he was referred to as "Little Superintendent" because he was often delegated the Superintendent's duties like correspondence and the filling in of teachers' positions in the Division. As a result, he became quite proficient in the English language. My mother, on the other hand, was a recognized Mathematics teacher. English and Math certainly made for a good combination for "Mengs" (Menggoy) and "Lols" (Loleng), their pet names for each other.

One memory of our childhood that stands out when we talk of our father is the experience we had when any of us kids got sick. He would prepare the towellete soaked in "sukang Iloko" to be placed on our forehead to get rid of the fever. In case of respiratory infection, he would coat the towellete generously with Numotizine to be placed on the chest to help alleviate the cough and cold. He would stay up keeping watch, checking every now and then if the fever had subsided.

My father was a stickler for hygienic and healthful practices. Fruits and vegetables that are eaten raw and with the skin must be washed with soap and water. We had all kinds of sprays against flies, roaches, ants and mice. Up until the warning against DDT was issued, it was always available in our house. A nightly exercise for him consisted of lighting "katols" to be placed in strategic locations in the house but which he would unlit before bedtime.

Birthdays were occasions that my father made extra-special for us. He would take us to lunch usually at the Moderna, a Chinese Restaurant in Sta. Cruz. The 3 constants on the menu were Pancit (for long life), Lapulapu Escabeche and Ampalaya Guisado in Black Bean Sauce. These birthday lunches started from when we were in grade school through college. When I had my birthday away from home and family for the first time when I was in the States, I was just miserable.

The pampering extended to the grandchildren. To them, he was not only "Lolo" but also a buddy. On trips to the barber shop for their joint haircuts, they would first stop at "Papers" store in downtown Malolos before going home, so the kids could pick a toy. The final stop would be to a Panciteria for a snack or lunch. For the grandkids, haircuts meant FUN!!!

He started my sister Editha's oldest child on a "matchbox" collection. Each time he came bringing a matchbox gift, together the two of them would check it against the brochure. He would continue the gift-giving until the whole collection was finally completed.

Though a music lover, my father could not carry a tune. However, he would not hesitate to oblige when we would ask him to sing the only song he knew:

Are you sleeping, are you sleeping
Brother James, brother James
Morning bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing
Ding dong ding, ding dong ding.

To be out of tune singing such a simple tune is certainly pitiful, if not funny!

My father was also active in local politics. Then Gov. Alejo Santos (Ravenal's dad), would frequently walk over to our house which was just across the Capitol Bldg. and they would hold long talks lasting into the night. My father would be in his rocking chair and I would then sit on his lap till I fell asleep and later be put to bed Another friend was Congressman Rogaciano Mercado, a champion debater during his U.P. days, who was kind enough to take time to coach me when I competed in the Provincial Oratorical Contest. When former Bulacan Gov. Fortunato Halili started his Halili Beer business, he was successful in enticing my father to join in as a result of which we received periodic beer delivery. Unfortunately, Halili Beer could not stay afloat and would soon go under. My father was not a "drinker" in the real sense of the word - he did it socially. When somehow I got to share his beer during a meal, my parents noticed it helped improve my appetite. As a child, I was such a fussy, finicky eater that to my parents, whatever would induce me to eat would be welcome. From then on, I would have my share when my father had his beer. Oddly, my 2 sisters never developed a taste for it.

A frequent comment from people was my father always looked like he just stepped out of the shower - "parang parating bagong paligo"! He would never dream of receiving visitors dressed in just shorts and "sando" but always saw to it that he was properly attired.

In their senior years, "Mengs" and "Lols" enjoyed going on walks oftentimes hand-in-hand. It was a beautiful sight to behold. After Inang passed on (on June 15, 1972), Tatang joined a group of "walkathoners". Among them were Mr. Florencio Gatchalian (Flor's dad) and Mr. Jose Mendoza (Jorge's dad). After the walk, the friends would usually have breakfast at the Malolos Kitchenette whose owner was also a member of the group. The walkathon might not have resulted in trimmer physiques but the camaraderie certainly added the spark to the remainder of their years. Sadly, Tatang passed away March 30, 1980 of the same ailment that caused Inang's death - cancer of the liver.

(Thank you, Emma, for the beautiful sharing. Putting those memories "in writing" and rereading them from time to time, will surely keep them alive in our minds and hearts. Your father did build tons of memories for all of you to go back to every now and then. Sarap, ano?

Salamat din sa magandang pagkasulat mo, na kumbaga sa kwento, ay puno ng "local color". Bumalik tuloy ang alaala ng downtown Malolos, kung saan kapag kailangan ng mga school supplies o panregalo sa kasal, birthday o anupaman, e, sa "Papers" sa bayan nagtutungo.

Nang nabanggit mo ang tungkol sa Inang at Tatang mo na naglalakad na magkahawak-kamay pa, ang naalaala ko naman ay ang Inang at Amang ko na pagkahapunan ay nagtutungo sa tindahan ng Da Maria sa may kanto (taga-Kantoboy kami, di ba?) at nakikipaghuntahan o kwentuhan ng kanilang kabataan. O kaya ay nagpapaantok sa pamamagitan ng paglalaro ng mahjong (silang dalawa lamang) na kung sino ang matalo ay siyang bibili ng pandesal kinaumagahan.

Bawat gunita ay nagsisilang ng panibagong alaala. Kaya, huwag tayong magsawa na paminsan-minsan, alalahanin sila.)


Mula pa rin sa ibayo ng dagat, narito ang sharing ng isang kamag-aral, nang sa pag-uusap namin sa telepono ay tanungin ko siya tungkol sa kanyang "Papang".

She gushed and exclaimed, with all the emotions of a truly beloved and favorite daughter:

Naku... naku... naku... si Papang! Naku! Naku!

At iyon na... ang sharing ni Aida. Na anupa ang aking maisasagot, kundi...

Naku... salamat!