Mom, Jediah, Dad- taken May 2008My father, Juan Fiesta Asuncion, died peacefully at Parkwood Hospital, London, Ontario on November 15, 2008 , nine days after he was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer. He was 84 years old.
I wrote this letter for him.
Dear Dad,
Celebrating your life at a Family Mass at St. Michael's Church, complete with a Filipino choir, was just the beginning. Respecting your wishes, we had a luncheon at one of your favorite Chinese Buffet Restaurant: we shared our grief and special memories with family and friends. But, Dad, it did not end there. Mom and your children celebrated for the rest of the week in your honor. I know that you were there with each one of us: in our hearts, in our memories.
You were remembered as one who embraced life with gusto. At work, your leadership and your honest work ethics were highly admired and commended by your co workers and staff alike. You worked very hard, sometimes working with 2 jobs to provide for your growing family: food, shelter, clothing and education. Of course, you balanced this with regular social activities like playing tennis or mah-jong and parties. Oh, we recalled how you liked to party!
As we became older, it became more important for you to have family get togethers. When you can no longer host dinner parties, you discovered Chinese Buffet Restaurants. So you gathered us around you as often as possible perhaps to remind us that life becomes shorter as one grows older. I am glad you did.
You enjoyed your senior status, unlike many seniors I know. Your "Senior Day" shopping became as much of a routine as a Sunday Mass. No doubt your impoverished relatives back in the Philippines had enjoyed receiving all the goods that you generously sent them regularly as a result of your senior-discounted shopping spree!
I remember the time you made your daily walking circuit to include the public library to get a free copy of the local paper. In return, you supported the library's appeal for children's programs; this I didn't know then.
As your arthritic knee threatened to slow you down, you upgraded your cane to a "Rollator" walker complete with a basket and a seat- just perfect for those shopping stops. And when that became too slow or too dangerous to cross a 4 lane busy intersection, a mobility scooter was your answer. Yes, you accepted these "problems" but found your own solutions anyway. I read once that "the greatest gift a parent can give his children is his independence". For this gift, I am thankful.
I understood how important it was for you to be mobile; this was your link to your "social networking". You befriended people everywhere you went: other seniors in the mall, the store cashier, the librarian, the pharmacy assistant, the butcher. They called you by your first name as you made your "rounds". Dad, this was a wonderful gift; it made you happy.
Now, each time I see a crossword or a Sudoku puzzle or pass by a Chinese Buffet or see Jediah (calling for his "wo-wo"), I'll think of you. More than that, for the love of gardening and cooking from scratch, I'll always have you to be grateful for.
Your daughter,
Vae
