LAST Sunday, my father would have been 92 years old. I miss him still.
I miss opening the door to his bedroom and seeing him reading every newspaper, while my mom scratched his back. That was their daily morning routine.
I miss him petting our dogs with the same gentle hand that would pat the heads of his grandkids.
I miss him talking to people, never at them or over them, listening intently to every word because their time was as precious as his.
I miss Christmas trips to his humble home in Hagonoy, Bulacan, where, like just-getting-by Santa Claus, he would hand out envelopes containing P20 to P50 to town-mates lining up outside the gate, oblivious to inflation rates and the ages of his recipients. He just wanted to make them happy.
I miss him working at his desk, head bowed and a frown across his forehead, writing in longhand a speech to be delivered the next day.
I miss hearing him talk shop with journalists before dishing out information that would give their by-lines prominence the next day.
I miss counting the number of press releases that he wrote in preparation for his weekly press conference.
Blas Fajardo Ople of Hagonoy led such a remarkable life that when people who knew him gather around, it seems like he had just recently passed on. Has it really been 16 years since he left us?
For a college dropout like Ka Blas to have served the country during successive administrations from Marcos to Arroyo, as labor minister, constitutional commissioner, senator, senate president and secretary of foreign affairs, while maintaining a weekly column for Panorama Magazine and Manila Bulletin, affirms the statesmanship that he possessed.
With a prophetic eye, he saw the need to establish a welfare fund for overseas workers, thus establishing the Overseas Workers Welfare Administration, a trust fund that has grown to P19 billion with welfare attachés posted all over the world.
Millennials never had the chance to know him, but they see his name emblazoned on the top of the POEA Building at the corner of Edsa and Ortigas Avenue. Labor Secretary Patricia Sto. Tomas had named the edifice after my father, her former boss and mentor. Most millennials associate the Ople name with my nephew, Carlo, a top “vlogger” and digital expert who has stupendous following among sneaker fans.
They have no recollection of Ka Blas as labor minister during the Marcos administration when the Philippine overseas employment program opened the doors to opportunities for Filipinos to work abroad, including members of their family. Their parents may not have even met each other when the Labor Code of the Philippines, authored principally by Ka Blas, set labor standards that protect our labor force. That the policies, programs and services he started continue to be relevant until today proves that leadership has no expiration date.
Commission on Audit Chairman Michael Aguinaldo, in his speech as guest of honor during the Blas F. Ople Day celebration in Malolos, Bulacan, said: “Opportunities for Filipinos to work abroad, the financial advancement of families that benefit from remittances from abroad, and economic benefits derived from the sacrifices and contributions of our OFWs are also the fruits of the hard work and vision of Ka Blas in his desire to provide jobs to our workers.”
Bulacan Gov. Wilhelmino Sy-Alvarado, in flawless, eloquent Tagalog, expressed the province’s appreciation that one of Bulacan’s favorite sons continues to influence the national life despite humble beginnings.
There is an innate courage in a true leader’s veins that make him or her rise above all the pettiness in the world. My dad never had a malicious streak; he always wished people well. He kept his eyes on the prize —the fulfillment of his mandate as senator and Cabinet official, making sure that every administration benefitted from the vision that he generously shared.
My brother, Dionisio Ople, shared his own sentiments about our father (we grew up calling him “Amang”) through our family Viber group: “Amang had such a fighting spirit that even after the EDSA revolt, he wasted no time writing columns, leading the opposition as a senatorial candidate, then finally winning a seat in the Senate in 1992 until he became secretary of foreign affairs. What was also remarkable was that he never forgot his family throughout his career.”
We remain close as siblings, as protective as can be of our 90-year old mom, and deeply mindful of the good memories left behind by Ka Blas. And when an OFW comes to anyone of us for help or advice, we remember him as we pause to listen, hoping to be of help.
My brother, Toti, continues to serve my father’s constituents in Bulacan as board member of the First District. He filed his candidacy as second nominee of Alay Buhay party-list. My nephew, Kris Blas Ople San Jose, my sister’s eldest son, will also be running as councilor of the town of Hagonoy on the ticket of Charo Alvarado, our governor’s highly capable daughter. We do what we humbly can to live up to my father’s inspiring example. His good reputation is our best inheritance.
Dear reader, if you have lost a parent, then you know how it feels to be whole but never complete. I feel that way about my dad. I miss him and always will.