Soldiers, Heroes, and Dad

Watched World Trade Center last night with Raymond. The movie showed the story from the view of a 9/11 survivor. Anyway, watching the movie made me think of the best community I've ever lived in.

I was in 2nd grade when my parents decided to move to Fernando Air Base so my father can be in his work without worrying how we were always doing. And we stayed there from July 31, 1989 to January 5, 2004.

Growing up in a community of soldiers is the best thing that happened to my formative years. The houses have the same style, the streets were named after fruits (but now named after soldiers), there are lots of passageways to discover. There are two plazas--Plaza 1 and Plaza 2. Plaza 1 are for the officers and Plaza 2 are for the regular sergeants. Knowing how to ride a bike is a must. Grandstand is our playground. Courts are everywhere--basketball courts, tennis courts, volleyball courts, swimming pools, football/soccer. Thus it is no wonder that I learned to play sports. Kids are also everywhere--in every house is at least 2 kids that we can play with during weekends. Fridays used to be the best for us--we could play patintero, gerbase before heading of inside our houses to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Denver the Last Dinosaurs. This is also the place to hone our other skills--such as singing, and dancing. During those years, you could see me wearing black and dancing in front of the whole community in a presentation or a contest. I was also a member of an organization serving God by reading passages during the mass. We got to dress up and walk towards the altar, and let the churchgoer hear our voice.

I also got to meet the different kinds of soldier. And here is also the place where I get to know my father more.

Let's first go back to the movie, notice that marine guy walking towards WTC? I remembered Dad in him. I used to see my father as that tall, strong, and brave man. Anyway, as I spent more time with my Dad, and during my angst-filled years, I learned how human he was--I saw his strengths and weaknesses. I saw how he fell down to his weakness and was able to stand again--to see life in a beautiful way.

Watching WTC and remembering FAB made me realize that I am really so proud of the soldiers--how they give their lives for peace. How they save lives in times of troubles. Soldiers are heroes.

And I guess, my father sees himself like that tall, strong, brave guy, too. I guess, he always sees himself as a soldier. I never got to ask him that because he isn't around physically anymore. But as I remembered him in my dream where he bid his farewell, he was in uniform. He told me he had to go just like a soldier in a mission. I knew then that he was saying goodbye. But it is only now that I realize that he really loved his work and who he has become.