My acceptance into a Manila university brought tears to my mother’s eyes, while Tatay responded silently, selling his only motorbike to support my education without hesitation.
During my departure, Tatay carried a box of simple hometown offerings, sweating through worn clothes yet smiling proudly despite fatigue from the long journey under scorching heat.
Before leaving, he handed a folded note inside my lunch box, expressing uncertain handwriting but certain love, promising support regardless of what I studied or pursued.
Through years of university and graduate research, he continued working, his hands hardening further while his back bent slowly, revealing the price he paid for my opportunities.
Whenever I visited home, seeing him resting beneath scaffolding broke my heart, yet he insisted proudly that supporting a future PhD made every hardship entirely worthwhile.
His pride pushed me forward through overwhelming coursework, teaching responsibilities, and moments when exhaustion nearly convinced me to abandon the path entirely.
For my dissertation defense, he borrowed a suit, squeezed into shoes too small, and sat upright in the auditorium’s back row, eyes fixed proudly on me.
After the panel congratulated me, Professor Santos paused before Tatay, recognizing him from long ago and recalling his bravery rescuing an injured worker despite being hurt himself.
The professor expressed genuine admiration, honoring him as a silent hero whose courage remained unforgettable even decades after that dangerous construction site incident.
Hearing this, Tatay smiled softly though his eyes glistened, humbled that someone remembered his unnoticed sacrifices beyond the struggles of daily survival.
At that moment, I understood that he never sought repayment but validation that his years of effort carried meaning beyond sweat, exhaustion, and silent endurance.
Today I teach at a Manila university while Tatay enjoys peaceful days tending vegetables, caring for chickens, and cycling proudly through our barangay each afternoon.
Sometimes he video calls to show garden harvests, reminding me to visit soon so my child can enjoy fresh eggs and vegetables grown with patient devotion.
When I ask whether he regrets working endlessly for my sake, he laughs, saying the greatest thing he ever built was not a house but a son.
I watch his hands on the screen, remembering how those roughened palms carried my future long before I knew how to dream beyond poverty.
I earned a PhD through perseverance, but Tatay Ben shaped the person behind the degree, constructing character with compassion, grit, and unwavering love.
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