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This may come as a surprise to my father, but he plays a significant role in why I am a photographer today. I believe I got my love for photography from him. You see, we both love photographs. We love being in them, looking at them, taking them. We both like to organize our photos in albums. I dabbled in scrapbooking before I went into photography full time while Papa is still at it. If he isn’t working on some legal matter, you’ll find him in his tiny workroom, pasting pictures on scrapbooks at 4 o’clock in the morning. I recall how excited I was when he and my mom gave me my first camera when I was 10, just in time for my first and only trip to the U.S. as a child, just a small black one, the kind that needed a cube bulb as flash (ooopppsss, did I just reveal my age?). I don’t think there was ever an occasion, a trip or a gathering that wasn’t documented by him with a camera, a task that was eventually handed over to me. We even resisted the digital format for as long as we could because we preferred (and still do actually) looking at tangible prints to images on a screen. I bought my first DSLR just two years ago and he stopped using film and bought a compact digital camera only because his trusty old Advantix got stolen (stupid thief too, who on earth steals an Advantix???).
It is said that a parent’s legacy is his or her child’s future. Today, on my father’s birthday, the only gift I can think of is to thank him for paving the way, albeit unknowingly on his part, for me to discover my true professional destiny. I am what I am today – a memory keeper, an image-maker, a photographer – because of you. Happy birthday, Papa!
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