This blog, for the most part, is all things Dexter. But not today. Today, this post is for my father, Carlos Topacio. As I said in the previous post, this blog is therapeutic for me, it calms me and sometimes lets me reflect on things.

So strange that now as a father, I sometimes forget that I am also a son. And now I'm a grieving son having lost my father this morning, Friday, September 30. He succumbed to cancer.

I don't want to remember Pop the way he looked the last few weeks. I want to remember him as a healthy guy who took a night job in order to take care of me during the day. I want to remember him taking basketball shots with me in the driveway. I want to remember him putting me on his lap so I could "drive" on our street. I want to remember him itching (not wanting) to go to Las Vegas at every opportunity. I want to remember him beaming with pride on my wedding day. I want to remember him as a father and a grandfather.

I want to remember him as a happy man on his own wedding day with his beautiful young bride.



I like to think that my dad is more handsome than I could ever imagine to be. I believe the Tagolog (and Spanish) term for that is "guapo". I like to think that he looks pretty neat in this old picture. Love the hair!



There's so much to say about him, but it's difficult. I've said my peace to him before he left us. I'll be haunted by some things, but I think that we're both glad we had a chance to say our last goodbyes.

In the background, I can hear Dexter trying to say, "Daddy" and it makes me feel better. When we were pregnant with Dexter, we debated on whether he should call me "dad" or "pop". Funny, I don't think I've ever met another person who referred to their father as "pop".

Well, to me, there is only one Pop, my father.

Pop, I love you. May you rest in peace.