You came from humble beginnings but were blessed with a full life. For you left a life of poverty in Pototan, Philippines, and found your field of dreams in post war Guam.
A place which yielded a rich harvest of fruits and vegetables, where you were able to live off the land - a farmer by birth as you always reminded us at every chance. A place in which you built your home through the sweat equity of your compares from SRF and, in return, offered them a place of refuge from their camp life as immigrant workers.
And later, where your children returned to from college so that they were also able to start out lives of their own. And now, where your grandchildren fill the yard with laughter – full of life, with their neighborhood friends – under the calamansi trees you planted.
You were never “dad” but always “our father,” and provided for your family a life that you would have never imagined even in your childhood days.
You were not a man of too many words, but everything you did was a labor of love, from working long hours at SRF for over 30 years and carpooling everyday with the Malilay, Muyco & Ecube neighborhood fathers for the 45-minute drive to SRF; tending faithfully to your vegetable garden every single day: watering, weeding, fertilizing, nurturing, keeping a watchful eye for Aunty Pilar’s chickens and kids trampling over your plants.
Even cooking your famous pancit molo was labor intensive, shelling the shrimp, deboning the chicken for the soup base, making the noodles from scratch, rolling the dough and then cutting them into triangles. You even tried to recruit us to at least wrap the fillings. We would run away, but mom would always be at your side. Who could imagine that the table you used for cooking for all the neighborhood parties would one day be the altar for your rosary.
Staring above the top of your black rim glasses and cap with that cryptic smile, you are a strong and gentle man who accomplished his goals, for you never really needed to aspire beyond the borders of your field of dreams. You had accomplished all you sought after and were successful by any standard, indulging in your rags to riches stories that we all had to listen to. Your only self indulgence was whiskey and the Rolex watch Nancy sold you. Even when it stopped working you proudly wore it as a badge of your hard work.
You lived with the quiet expectation that your children would also measure up to your standards, even though we would stray from your own culture and traditional values.
So when you received a long-distance phone call from David Tan whom you never met before asking permission to marry me, it wasn’t you who asked me if I was pregnant. And when Gino wanted to drop out of college after one year to become an artist, you gave your only son one of your rental units so he could start up an art studio. And for Bernie, who once ran away from home to the Dalipe’s house two blocks down the road, you became her inspiration for “Under the American Sun” – the Camp Roxas story film.
You dwell in another place now. A Garden of Eden where you don’t have to work so hard, a place where you can finally rest with untold spiritual rewards, and join Uncle Amin & Aunty Basing Mallo, Uncle Domy Ecube, Uncle Dodoy Laurente, Mikey Garrido and Domy Jr. Ecube. When it rains we will think of you watering the plants and keep alive your field of dreams.
- - - Eulogy by Liza Ann J. Provido Tan, daughter
July 14, 2009
