A Eulogy for My Father: Mr. Oscar Lagman 03/24/1934 – 09/20/2024

My father came from a generation and culture where self awareness and purpose driven living were considered superfluous. You see, my parents had me late in their lives and it is because of the age gap that I felt like I have missed out in knowing them as adults, for they have grown so much older by the time I became an adult. So, when I was asked by my eldest sister to give his eulogy, I didn't know what to say as he was a complicated man who was misunderstood by all, including his children. But as I texted my husband to update him from my arrival in Manila, to my father's passing, which was a little over an hour after we got to his bed side, and during his viewing, I inadvertently wrote his eulogy through these text messages. So, here I am, sharing what I said, to all, to hopefully share the lessons I derived from my grief.

I didn’t know what to expect, flying here to Dad’s bedside. I had very low expectations because I knew that he wouldn’t know who I was, which I shockingly discovered when I flew in for mom’s funeral in 2021. I ran to him as he got out of the car to surprise him. Little did I know that it was I who would be surprised as he politely smiled as I held his hand, he didn’t know who I was. It is then that I immediately realized that I had lost both my parents. The whole visit then was grief-filled at every time he looked at me, with his bewildered eyes and his curious questioning of who the “tall girl was,” to my nephew and niece, whom he knew very well as opposed to me. As a result, I became apprehensive at every Zoom call with him, moving forward as my sisters attempted to remind him with questions that I knew, first hand was never to be answered to their satisfaction. We were strangers to him. That is the pain Alzheimer’s gives to loved ones.

Last April, I took my husband, Mark, to meet my dad for the first time in person. Till then, they’d only met by Zoom, and had known of each other, way before the pandemic. Mark witnessed in person Dad’s physical frailty but saw how he was still aware of visitors like us, who have come to express love towards him. Incidentally, my husband also met my mom as I took him to her grave, after our visit to him. My tragic version of "Meet the Parents."

As I now look at dad’s photograph with mom, I imagined what their thoughts were at 26 and 28 years old. How they must’ve felt hope and excitement at starting a life together. How and when they evolved and when it became problematic; when their lives grew apart and how they each had to cope in their own deficient ways.

I thought to myself, as I sat in front of his coffin: They were just kids and to have children, while attempting to navigate through their lives, there was no mental health and work life balance awareness in their generation. No compassion or allowances for parental stress. No awareness for self-care and self-compassion.

I stand here, almost twice their age in that picture. I looked back at my lack of experience as I was disappointed in them for not being the parents I thought they should’ve been. With youth, I did not have the wisdom to appreciate the hard work and the love they gave, especially with what little emotional support they received from extended family and friends who could’ve given them a listening ear, a kind word, or a hug. They gave to all and received little in return from everyone who judged them when the sweet life they carefully built got derailed. Instead of support, Dad was mocked for losing his carefully built career and the lifestyle he made for us. My father was not perfect and had his lion’s share of misgivings. So, I will not stand here and reinvent history to sanitize this man’s life, but rather, I stand here to accept and validate a life, lived with nothing but the best he could with little guidance and support from those who could have been true friends.?

Here's what learned as I reflected: When my dad loved to talk endlessly about his glory days, I should’ve listened regardless of his repetitiveness. He was loud and people thought he was boastful. I should’ve extended my curiosity and asked him more about those days and the lessons they gave him. I should’ve joined him in sharing his stories. I should’ve understood that he was loud and proud because he simply wanted to hear the words: Well, done.

Now, here I am. I have built a career and have created a wonderful life that my dad wanted for himself and our family. It’s because of him that I love champagne. I love caviar. I love hosting parties. I love to cook and just like Dad, I can replicate most of what I taste at restaurants and proudly make them for my family. Moreover, I love that I am in a position to give consultative advice to leaders wherever I work, thanks to Mr. Oscar Lagman, who only had a glimpse of what could have been but taught me enough to reach for it.

In the end, I am my father’s daughter, and I am very proud to tell his stories of the glory days. He was our very own Mad Men’s Don Draper; handsome, smooth, debonair, classy, and has the gift of a beautiful and creative mind. My father was an advertising director at pre-martial law Philippines’ channel 11. He was a Vice President for glossy travel magazines in Manila called Sunburst, Outlook, and Yaman, wrote PhilBanking’s slogan: "More than double your money," and advisor to influential people and the last one, as consultant to Mayor Abalos of our hometown, Mandaluyong. My father was admired. My father was envied. But was also not given the credit he was due.

On behalf of Oscar Lagman’s family, we thank you for the gift of your care, kindness, and compassion to us, in our time of loss. We thank you for being with us today.

Before we end, please join us for this moment of silence with a song for my father who loved to dance…Luther Vandross - Dance With My Father: https://youtu.be/wmDxJrggie8?si=E1LaMxfqwPPDmJv3