Family Man
Whenever people find out that my real (first) name is Emilio, they invariably laugh and ask "How did you get the name'Russ'?" Names are an interesting thing, particularly newly discovered ones. I must look like a "Russ."
Of course, Emilio is my father's name, which technically makes me a Junior. That's why some people (trying to be funny) in the Philippines starting calling me "Jun-Jun." Some people like it and wonder why I don't use it, and some actually start calling me Emilio - I believe to tease me. Maybe one reason why I shied away from actually using my first name was to avoid being "too Filipino" - so opted for my Scandinavian (four letter) name. And then sometimes I play it up and embrace it - when I made the varsity soccer team in high school, I had "Emilio Jr" on the back of my jersey. Emilio is a fitting soccer name and the only thing missing was long-flowing hair.
Speaking of which, I inherited many things from my dad. My hairline for starters. Short stature, friendly spirit, fascination with cutting meat and knives, and lack of musical talent - are next on the list.
And then there's the man that I seek to become. A man who had a dream as a young boy working in the sugar cane fields in the Philippines to study hard, go to college, and pave the way for our family and other relatives to come to the States to enjoy the American dream. A man who worked not one, but two or three jobs all his life to provide for those he loved. A man who believed in honest work and had no desire to scheme others to in order to earn an extra dollar. A man whose fun spirit earned him the nick-name of "Filipino Danny Devito" and led him to show up at work during the OJ Simpson trial in a black graduation gown and proclaim himself as "Judge Lance Ito." A man who is not the smoothest with words (beware of smooth-talkers, I've learned), but whose heart was clearly evident to others. A man who is generous to a fault which sometimes makes him a sucker.
I have had the privilege of accompanying my father back to his birthplace in San Carlos, and seen him reflect how far he has come. I have heard him share his story to anyone who would listen about how hard we worked. Listed on my bucket list is to begin writing my father's biography or life story. I hope to start that soon before my father starts calling me Nikko or Sergio (two of his grandsons). I have already checked off other things on my bucket list, including taking my dad to a professional boxing championship match (Oscar de la Hoya and Anthony Hopkins in Las Vegas for his birthday in September 2004). Although we (sort of) viewed Golden Boy get knocked out from our seats in the nose-bleed section, I got a clear view of my dad's joy from just the experience, and it was worth every penny I spent on the tickets. Some things are priceless.
Some things are indeed priceless. To have both of my parents still around and come around bringing food over and constantly asking how I am doing and how my kids are doing and if I need anything reminds me that the steadfast love of a father never ceases.
So on this Father's Day, while I'm by myself (Megumi and the kids are in Japan), I'm not sure what I will do to celebrate my dad, Emilio Sr. I'm looking at my bucket list and check off - "Get "Mily" tatooo on my right forearm.
Like father, like son.
Of course, Emilio is my father's name, which technically makes me a Junior. That's why some people (trying to be funny) in the Philippines starting calling me "Jun-Jun." Some people like it and wonder why I don't use it, and some actually start calling me Emilio - I believe to tease me. Maybe one reason why I shied away from actually using my first name was to avoid being "too Filipino" - so opted for my Scandinavian (four letter) name. And then sometimes I play it up and embrace it - when I made the varsity soccer team in high school, I had "Emilio Jr" on the back of my jersey. Emilio is a fitting soccer name and the only thing missing was long-flowing hair.
Speaking of which, I inherited many things from my dad. My hairline for starters. Short stature, friendly spirit, fascination with cutting meat and knives, and lack of musical talent - are next on the list.
And then there's the man that I seek to become. A man who had a dream as a young boy working in the sugar cane fields in the Philippines to study hard, go to college, and pave the way for our family and other relatives to come to the States to enjoy the American dream. A man who worked not one, but two or three jobs all his life to provide for those he loved. A man who believed in honest work and had no desire to scheme others to in order to earn an extra dollar. A man whose fun spirit earned him the nick-name of "Filipino Danny Devito" and led him to show up at work during the OJ Simpson trial in a black graduation gown and proclaim himself as "Judge Lance Ito." A man who is not the smoothest with words (beware of smooth-talkers, I've learned), but whose heart was clearly evident to others. A man who is generous to a fault which sometimes makes him a sucker.
I have had the privilege of accompanying my father back to his birthplace in San Carlos, and seen him reflect how far he has come. I have heard him share his story to anyone who would listen about how hard we worked. Listed on my bucket list is to begin writing my father's biography or life story. I hope to start that soon before my father starts calling me Nikko or Sergio (two of his grandsons). I have already checked off other things on my bucket list, including taking my dad to a professional boxing championship match (Oscar de la Hoya and Anthony Hopkins in Las Vegas for his birthday in September 2004). Although we (sort of) viewed Golden Boy get knocked out from our seats in the nose-bleed section, I got a clear view of my dad's joy from just the experience, and it was worth every penny I spent on the tickets. Some things are priceless.
Some things are indeed priceless. To have both of my parents still around and come around bringing food over and constantly asking how I am doing and how my kids are doing and if I need anything reminds me that the steadfast love of a father never ceases.
So on this Father's Day, while I'm by myself (Megumi and the kids are in Japan), I'm not sure what I will do to celebrate my dad, Emilio Sr. I'm looking at my bucket list and check off - "Get "Mily" tatooo on my right forearm.
Like father, like son.
posted by ERuss at
3:34 PM
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