He is gone.. He is in peace.. He live a great life..

My dad is a fighter every since he was young. Being the eldest in his family, he was task to take care of his own family when his dad died while he was still young. I still remember the stories of how he started working right after high school - foregoing basketball (and he was good at it) and college - and just work so that his siblings where able to go and pursue a better education and live a good life. 

My dad wasn't rich but he just had enough to give my mom, and us a good and decent life. We didn't have fancy clothes, cars or house but he was able to provide us with a happy life. My dad was hard on us but he was so that we could grow up to become stronger person especially me. I still remember playing a game of hoops against his team. I went for a layup and next thing I know, I was on the floor on my back and the first thing he said... Get Up, Its Your Fault!. I never fully understand why he didn't ask me if I was alright or whether I was hurt. And I was hurt for the fact that he thought it was my fault. But I think I know why he was that, he wanted me to be tougher and stronger. To fight when I need to and stop being too shy and timid.

Even though he was tough, he always had that softer and gentler side of him. I still have fond memories of the whole family sitting at the dinner table and just laughing while we all share a common meal. Or the family time on Sundays where we would just go to a restaurant, preferably a buffet, and just eat and eat and eat for hours that I think the place would close down because of us or head to the province to relax, swim and drown ourselves in seafood (btw, my dad was a seafood connoisseurs.)

Now he is gone, he didn't get a chance to see how I have become. I know he would have been proud of me.

He is gone.. He is in peace.. He live a great life..

Rest In Peace Pops!