Papa and Mama weren’t perfect, but they were the best parents I could have ever asked for. Together, they were a perfectly balanced team: Papa was the cheerful, easy-going provider handling the world outside, while Mama was our ‘Internal Chief,’ the disciplined heart of the home. They worked tirelessly to give my brother, Manoy Monching, and me everything—a good education, a spiritual compass to keep us God-centered, and – once in a while – ‘the belt’ to keep us from drifting off course.
My lifelong obsession with sports started with a Christmas surprise I’ll never forget. Papa told me to get dressed, and we hopped on a jeepney to Quiapo. When we reached Raon, my eyes went wide as the sports stores displayed rows of spanking-new basketballs and other sports gear that stared back at me. I thought we were just passing through, as we often did. I didn’t realize Papa had brought me there specifically to buy me a basketball. I was so overwhelmed with joy that I actually cried. That singular gift wasn’t just about buying a ball; it ignited a fire in me, sparking a competitive drive that would lead me to where I am today—invested in the game, but now – after the passing of years – through the lens of a sportswriter. For more on this, here’s: My Papa and the Original Athlete’s Foot.
But life wasn’t all ‘glitz and glam.’ I remember the heavy years of the Philippine Air Lines Employees Association (PALEA) strike where Papa, as the Vice President of the group, played a key role in the fight against the management of the country’s flag carrier airline. It was a three-year battle that hit our family hard. To keep us afloat, Mama had to sell off much of her property inheritance in Bohol piece by piece. When the Supreme Court finally ruled against PALEA, Papa was devastated. The loss took a massive toll on his spirit. The PAL management, perhaps having seen my Papa’s leadership skills, and as an offer of reconciliation, offered him a prestigious promotion: an international post in Chicago. But he turned it down. The fight had exhausted him, and he chose instead to manage the PAL office in Tagbilaran – a quiet retreat in preparation for an early retirement.
Back in Tagbilaran, they began to rebuild on what was left of Mama’s inherited land. It was a smaller life than the one they had envisioned, but it was there, amidst the remnants of that struggle, that I would spend the final year of my high school days.
Looking back, the lessons from my Papa and Mama were very valuable, more valuable than any inheritance. I learned that true love isn’t just about joyful moments; it’s about holding hands in the quiet wake of a terrible loss, it’s about standing steadfast in the face of adversity, and it’s about having the courage to get up and rebuild. Papa taught me that passion (like sports) can fuel a lifetime, but integrity is what keeps you grounded. Meanwhile, Mama’s grace showed me that when life forces you to downsize, you simply make the smaller space warmer. The challenges they faced told me that sometimes, when a door closes, another opens. And sometimes, a lost fight leads you to the exact place you needed to be all along. My Papa and Mama, through their dignified fight during these trials and tribulations, showed me that our upbringing – balanced by both joy and discipline – didn’t just provide us a formula for success, it prepared us the needed wherewithals for life’s inevitable struggles.
Cover pic and other pics from the Holgy Library. For a closer look, pls click on the pics.
Color My World 