This afternoon, I sat enraptured listening to two friends performing Schubert Serenade on the piano and violin in my living room. I’ve heard it many times before, but this time, it especially kindled memories of my father singing in his rich baritone lyrics of his favorite love song evolved from Schubert’s music. Back of our home in the province where I grew up is the Bicol river. Still clear in my mind, he often would stand by the river bank and sing with full gusto the enchanting melody of Schubert Serenade. Being a romantic at heart and even as a little girl, I enjoyed imagining that the leaves of nearby malongay trees and the long blades of cogon grass trembled at the vibrancy of his voice. And of course, Mama swooned. A good time to remember – it’s Father’s Day on Sunday. So, happy Father’s Day, Papa, wherever you are in God’s spiritual realm.

In my living room is my husband’s handsome portrait used during his funeral four and a half years ago. If eyes could smile, his do, especially in that picture. I call them twinkling eyes, and as I relished strains of Schubert Serenade, I imagined that his eyes twinkled even more, and his smile broadened even more. Strange, you might say. But that’s just my playful imagination.

My husband loved music. An endearing quirk of his was to suddenly belt out a song in powerful tenor resonance, much like a seasoned soloist in an oratorio — and never mind the neighbors. No river back of our house in Palo Alto but open windows definitely, windows I would partly close whenever he burst into a musical impromptu. Until the neighbors remarked – they enjoyed his renditions. Then I stopped shutting windows whenever he sang with a voice that (I mused) could project across the wide river to the plateau on the other side, just like my father’s. So apropos to remember – it’s Father’s Day on Sunday. Happy Father’s Day, Stanley.

Today, I responded to my sister-in-law’s FB posting – an old picture of her father very formally attired in a beige suit with a smart necktie. He was a young man then, good looking indeed. When my son and daughter responded to their auntie’s post, memories flooded in. Directing my comments to Joy, I said, her Grandpa used to boast that she was so much like him in temperament when she was a little girl. Very strong willed, persistent, and lovably stubborn (had to add that “L” word). I also reminded John that Grandpa would often sit him on his laps and subo (feed) him rice and scrambled eggs with his fingers when he was a little boy. And of course, little John loved being pampered that way. Strange that as I write this blog, I realize (or hadn’t given it serious thought), how Papang doted on those kids. Their Grandpa passed when the children were in high school. Wonderful memories. So fitting – it’s Father’s Day on Sunday. Happy Father’s Day, Papang.

And to all the fathers in my family – my son, John (father of my grandson, Eliott), my brothers, brothers-in-law, nephews and uncles — I say, a very happy Father’s Day to you –- enjoy your small, private celebration during this shelter-in-place time — -and may God bless and guide you as you continue to love and care for your families.

Happy Father’s Day to all!

Most important – Happy Father’s Day to our Abba, Father!

Linda P. Jacob