Lessons from My Parents: Love, Discipline, and Resilience

(6th of ‘My Story’ Series)

My parents divided life’s chores between them without ever discussing it. Papa carried the many burdens outside our home; Mama carried the ones inside. Neither complained. Neither sought recognition. Together, they created the safest place my brother Manoy Monching and I would ever know.

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 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 that Papa had brought me there precisely to buy me a basketball. I was so overwhelmed with joy that I burst into tears. Watching those tears of joy flow unabashedly down my cheeks, Papa just smiled and hugged me tight.

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 heavily 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 precious piece.

But she never complained. Despite our meals becoming simpler. Despite our family fun activities becoming rarer. Despite my having to transfer to a public school on my 6th Grade.

When the Supreme Court finally ruled against PALEA, Papa was devastated. The loss took a massive toll on his spirit. From the jolly fellow who could command the attention of an entire party, he became relatively silent. And more serious.

The PAL management, perhaps having seen my Papa’s leadership skills, and as a token of reconciliation, offered him a prestigious promotion: an international post in Chicago. A new branch was opening, and they wanted someone who could lead a pioneering crew there. Yes, surprisingly, he was being offered a manager’s position abroad. An international career. Prestige. Starting over. Think about it. Despite the loss.

But he turned it down. Why? Not simply because he was tired. There must have been something deeper. Perhaps dignity. Perhaps pride. Perhaps peace. Perhaps family. But the struggle had admittedly 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 was it really smaller? Materially? Yes, definitely. But spiritually? Perhaps not. Sometimes downsizing gives the opportunity to enlarge people in other fields. And Papa, I believe, was struggling to achieve this by nurturing his own little kingdom in Tagbilaran. And it was there, amidst the ruins 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. Only much later did I realize that my parents had been giving me an education far greater than the one I received in school. Every sacrifice they made, every disappointment they endured, every quiet decision to begin again became part of my own foundation. They never taught resilience through lectures. They taught it simply by living it. As I try to recall those dark, difficult days, I realize that the greatest inheritance they left my siblings and me wasn’t the land, nor was it the possessions. It was the quiet confidence that no setback is ever final if a family faces it together.

Cover pic and other pics from the Holgy Library. For a closer look, pls click on the pics.