The godfather

Growing up Catholic, most of us inevitably are appointed at least two sets of godfathers. The first one is chosen for our baptism and the second one is for confirmation. Chances are we rarely develop a close relationship with our godparents because of the humongous age difference unless of course you happen to have the type of parents who never let go of close friends.

That is truly unique in a world where we often find ourselves in seasons of friendships. Good or bad I have to admit that with the many lives and many places I have lived, I overlooked the fact that friendships need to be cultivated. On the other hand, friendships just like some marriages tend to get left behind when people “grow up”, rise in their careers, or get replaced by a wife, husband and children.

Some manage to look back and revive or restore friendships, others simply swallow hard and move on in the hopes that whatever is in front will make up for those left behind.

When it comes to godfathers, I often said that I never had much luck because I never really got to know both of them, primarily because of the distance in age as well as in residence. I used to think of them as the second and third Santa who rarely showed up at Christmas. Eventually the concept of godfathers became irrelevant to me. I unfortunately did not understand nor was I taught what godfathers were supposed to be.

As kids, we thought that their only role was to give cash on birthdays or gifts…plus cash on Christmas. The idea that they would be the alternate parent if anything happened to my Mom or Dad was never mentioned and no one was really qualified or interested in discussing the role of spiritual mentors or advisers to us ignorant godchildren.

Sadly I eventually became the same “absentee godfather” who has never showed up for Christmas or birthdays. I honestly have to make an effort to remember most of them and in some cases, I actually know their parents but I can’t remember some of the names of my own godchildren. Yes I am a penitent embarrassment to the godparenthood movement!

Eventually when we all decide to get married, we have the privilege to actually choose who we want as “Ninongs and Ninangs” or godparents at our wedding. Often it is a beloved aunt or uncle, a slightly older person we hold in high regard or sadly as in a number of weddings, someone rich, famous or powerful. I remember weddings that looked like auctions and benefit balls where the couple “earned” back their expenses for the lavish wedding just from the cash endowments of the sponsors.

My wedding was a bit strange in the sense that Karen and I made the decision to get married on a Wednesday, got a confirmation that our Tito Mel Mathay could officiate as Mayor of Quezon City on Thursday, invited our witnesses and had our wedding rings done on a Friday, and got married on a Saturday.

We only had one sponsor. When he showed up he was so well dressed that people thought he was the groom!

“Ninong” back then was not as big as he is now. He was certainly very influential; he was relatively affluent and surely destined to be successful. But that was not why we got him.

He was not much older than Karen and I, nor was he close to our parents or my family. But if anyone deserved to be our godfather, “Ninong” had earned the title and the honor even before the wedding.

Most couples would find counsel and support after the marriage, but in our case he already went out of his way to help us through the difficult days as we struggled to keep a business afloat in Palawan. He helped us keep a roof over our heads. In like manner he also allowed us to be encouragers in the difficult times of his life. He gave us the privilege to cover him in prayer when he needed it most. In the toughest of times we were family.

Unfortunately because we are human and “Great minds think alike”, we inevitably clashed on occasions. I had yet to learn humility and the importance of honoring those we have given authority over our lives. So I often found myself disengaging from the relationship and disparaging my mentor, my friend and my godfather. I used to say that we often hurt the ones we love but I never realized that I would be practicing what I preached in a bad way.

By God’s grace I eventually learned much about honoring others, I also learned that humility and repentance could be very empowering and liberating. In the last two months “Ninong” and I have been on a journey of restoration, two days ago I had the joyful experience of apologizing to my Ninong and verbalizing my respect and affection. He’s not so great in the verbalization department so he does it by giving presents. Unfortunately his sense of proportion often tries to match his excessive generosity. I guess he also gets it from his mentor.

My Ninong has given me more in 15 years than other Ninongs can in a lifetime. But the most important gift he ever gave me is to awaken in me the nerve and the guts to dare, to imagine; and actually do things that others say would be difficult, impossible or can’t done. I use to think he was reckless, now I realize that he simply believed in redefining the rules.   

It will be painfully difficult to return his most recent present specially since we have just started mending fences and also because a Japanese friend once taught me that: “to refuse a gift is to dishonor a friend”. But after much prayer I also cannot dishonor God who tells me that the gift of “redemption” and being restored in a relationship is sufficient unto itself.

Thank you Ninong and God bless.