The Price of Being the Good Son

The event was a minor one, the circumstances of little significance. Though it happened when I was in high school I remember all the details. I was at a stamp exhibition at Broadway Centrum. It was starting to get dark so I called home to tell my parents that I would be late for dinner. (This was before there were any cellphones.)

That pretty much characterized my  youth. I was Lawful Good, following all the rules as my parents, school and media preached. When one of my siblings erred in their responsibilities, my parents used me as an example of behavior appropriate for a son.

Then the inevitable happened: I got a life. In college I attended more parties and went out drinking with friends. Naturally, by that time I was 'too old' to report when I'd be coming in late. And my parents hammered the guilt trip into me.

And yes, I was guilty: I was guilty of setting unrealistic expectations. They expected me to be the Sonny Boy as long as they were alive. I now regretted that I wasn't a bit more of a jerk back then. Maybe then they would have resigned themselves to 'boys will be boys'.

But alas, loyalty and obedience to family was too deeply ingrained in me. When my father started to get older, he made it clear that he expected me to carry on the business. This, again, was natural. My siblings had chosen to work elsewhere, some moving abroad. I tried teaching at a speech center, but as my father made clear, this was only to be a sideline.

Let me hasten to add that my parents were far from dictatorial. It was my decision to be my father's successor. I could have easily worked as a permanent teacher at some school, but again filial piety made me ride in to the rescue of a business of two generations that could not die.

The result was an unmitigated disaster. The job carried a lot of responsibility, and I possessed none of the aptitude or temperament needed. I continued to slack off until the business nearly went under.

I ended up leaving the business and moving to Iloilo. My brother who handled the Iloilo side of the business took over the Manila main office as well.

Now when everybody was assuming that I was reflecting on my sins, what I was really tossing about in my head was that I was too dependent on letting my parents pronounce what was best for me. I had been a total schmuck to not consider the possibility that my talents lay elsewhere, simply too lazy to look for a different job just because there was one already waiting on a silver platter.

I had always been a lazy weakling, letting others do my thinking for me even though my intelligence was something others said they admired, and not bothering to speak up for myself. (Some would say 'rebel'.) I remember how part of my dad's grooming process was to insist I dress like he did: short sleeved polo shirts, dark gabardine pants and leather shoes. (He would drag me along to shop for these.) When I asked if I could get a long-sleeved shirt he actually got irritated.

Today, I am fortunate to have found my niche, even though I am still paying for my past sins. But now I have learned that if I ever have a child of my own, I will certainly instill discipline in him or her. (As my work mates will attest, I can be a pain of a stickler sometimes.) But I will certainly make sure that he grows up with some guts, to speak out without being insolent. That will mean constant communication with him without badgering him. I will respect his privacy if only because my own are constantly being violated. In short, I will make him WANT to work with me.

Not too long ago, I had to deal with an infuriating person who was lazy, deceitful and totally lacking in personality. Now I realize that my disgust was because I was seeing myself in that individual.

But I will make sure that I will not see that in my child. Because then, he or she will truly be A Good Child.