GRAND father

due to popular demand (by mishi), am putting out my post on my grandpa as mentioned in an earlier post...

My grandpa/ kongkong died last October 2000. Even in his death, he managed to help me.
At that time, I was going through a break-up and really a path of hatred towards my ex which was admittedly unhealthy. My ex visited his wake and paid his respects and somehow because of that I (partly) forgave him and realized he wasn't so bad if he could do that. I knew he liked my kongkong and I was happy that even though we didn't work out, he still recognized that my kongkong was a good man. My kongkong gave me a sense of closure with that relationship.

Kong (as we sometimes fondly call him) was extraordinary. Up to now, after 8 years, I still feel a twinge of sadness when I remember him.

He was a short man, I think he was almost the same height as my ama. The reason was when he was young, he carried a bilao (native basket) on his head laden with filipino delicacies, selling on the streets. His parents died young and as the eldest, he was responsible for his siblings. Together with his brothers, they left their younger siblings with aunts and found ways to make money. How he was able to go from that to building a successful paint company I will never understand. It's those rags-to-riches story that one simply wonders in awe how one person can rise so high above where he used to be.
I remember my ama said that when he first started out, my kongkong used to have a lot of small things going on at the same time. Little rackets to make money. Then he decided to sell everything and to start this paint company. It was a big risk because if it didn't work out, he would be left with nothing. He had guts. More than that, (as Edison said, genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration), Kong knew the value of hard work.
When he was just building Globesco, Kong was an all-in-one person. The delivery boy, the stock man, the big boss, everything. Such that when a businessman went to his office and saw him sweeping, the visitor asked for his boss and Kong simply nodded. He put away his broom and went behind the office desk and proceeded to conduct the meeting!
Kong was inspiring and humble. I always refer to that story whenever my boyfriend, who is an entrepreneur himself, faces challenges.

When Kong died, the funeral home was filled to the brim with flowers. People from all over the Philippines and Asia sent their condolences. It turns out he had helped so many people and asked for so little back. A lot had to do with business and lending money.

Kong wasn't perfect of course. He was human like everyone else. As a father, I know he had his favorites and funnily enough, one of them was my mom who he felt brought him good luck because just before she was born, he ran into a relative and got himself a job (by volunteering to search for wood).

As his grandchildren, there wasn't anything we wouldn't do for him -- to the point that we all donned red T-shirts with his caricature emblazoned in the front and danced choreographed steps to 80's hit, Blame it on the Rain, during his 70th birthday (whoever has the tape, burn it please!). I remember my boy cousins had to massage his bare back with chinese-smelling balm. Of course, as the patriarch, he also had his sons-in-law accompany him to hong kong trips just to play mahjong all day long in his apartment. He knew how to milk his role!
Kong will always represent love and safety. He used to tell me that if ever my mom treated me bad, I could just run to him and he would spank my mom. Of course, I never did that but as a rebellious child, it was nice to hear that there was a higher person than my parents.

My one regret is that my would-be husband will never get to meet him and know how inspiring he was. My one fear is that my would-be children will only stare at his portrait blankly and go through the motions of ha-po-pi without knowing how great a man he was.

I'm scared because now, my memories of him are not as clear. I still remember he liked Carl's Jr so much that he used to order my boy cousins to buy it for him when they opened in Virra Mall. I still remember he loved that old navy blue Benz with plate number PBA that even though it was sooo old and he already had a newer Benz and a BMW and a Volvo, he still insisted on using it. I still remember he went to Globesco everyday at 7am even though he was already 70+. I still remember he loved playing golf and had his nasty habit of smoking like my dad. I still remember he loved calling one of my cousins Battery (Valerie) and another Tua Diap Gong (hard to translate in English as it sounds really bad). I still remember how he used to shush my mom and her siblings whenver they got too loud and giggly. I still remember how much he liked Grassi's for dinner and we felt it was such luck if he had a craving and you happened to be in his house at that time.
But now, I don't remember how he laughed anymore. Or even how he called me. I can't even remember how that nasty Chinese balm he had smelled like.

Grandfathers are bigger than life. They are somehow more perfect and less scary. They never get mad at you and are always happy to see you.
I know that I will never forget how Kong made me feel whenever I was with him -- safe, loved, protected, knowing that I came from greatness. Kong gave me reason to believe that anything is possible.