November 1st isn’t just All Saints’ Day; it’s a day etched in our family’s heart as the birthday of Benjamin “Amen” M. Gozon, our beloved Tatay. He was a man whose quiet strength and unwavering principles continue to shape our lives long after his passing.
This year, we honored his memory with a visit to Manila Cemetery, a peaceful gathering before the crowds arrived. The real magic happened later, when my niece, Annette, used artificial intelligence to breathe new life into faded family photographs. Laughter mingled with tears as we rediscovered moments lost to time, a poignant reminder of the extraordinary man Tatay was.
A lawyer by profession, Tatay’s career was marked by dedication and integrity. He served as Director of Mines for fourteen years – a remarkable feat as the first non-engineer to hold the position – and later as Secretary of Agriculture and Natural Resources under President Diosdado Macapagal. He understood the power of diligent study, believing every task deserved his full attention.
I vividly remember the Harry Stonehill scandal, a massive corruption case that gripped the nation. Headlines screamed of wrongdoing, yet Tatay slept peacefully. His guiding principle was beautifully simple: “The softest pillow is a clear conscience.” He lived by those words, maintaining an unblemished reputation throughout his years of public service – a powerful lesson in a world often compromised.
His appointment to the Cabinet was a surprise even to Tatay, as President Macapagal hadn’t known him personally. It was the unwavering testimony of his staff, praising his honesty and tireless work ethic, that opened the door. A powerful reminder that our actions, both good and bad, have a way of becoming known.
Tatay demonstrated his commitment to duty above all else. As Governor of the Land Authority, one of his first acts was to expropriate my mother’s inherited rice lands in Nueva Ecija – a clear demonstration that official responsibility superseded even family ties.
Beyond his public life, Tatay was the heart of our home. My mother, a hardworking businesswoman, maintained a firm hand, but Tatay always offered a gentle counterpoint. He’d remind us, “Your mother works very hard for all of you and thinks of nothing else but her children,” modeling respect and understanding in a way that grounded our family.
He possessed a remarkable ability to make each of his four children – Benjamin Jr., Carolina “Kay,” Felipe “Henry,” and myself – feel uniquely cherished. Bishop Jonel Milan observed that Tatay was a natural psychologist, intuitively understanding what mattered most to each of us.
His thoughtfulness extended to small, personal gestures. He gifted me with the Nancy Drew book series, sparking a lifelong love of reading. Ate Kay was entrusted with responsibility, Kuya Ben carried the pride of his namesake, and Henry, the youngest, held a special place in Tatay’s heart.
Tatay didn’t lecture; he encouraged. When I struggled with math, he simply said, “Kaya mo ’yan. Wala akong anak na bumabagsak” – “You can do it. I don’t have a child who fails.” That simple belief fueled my determination. Even a toddler’s tantrum was met with the gentle nickname “Baet” (“good girl”), and remarkably, it worked.
His wisdom was distilled into simple, powerful reminders: strive for excellence, be grateful for what you have, and live within your means. He practiced financial discipline, subtly guiding us during Christmas shopping with a gentle squeeze of the hand when we reached our budget. He taught contentment and stewardship without a single sermon.
A man of quiet faith, Tatay read the Bible repeatedly and treated everyone with genuine respect and warmth. His legacy lives on in his fourteen grandchildren – Belinda, Mylene, Benjie, Nicky, Butch, Joel, Laurie, Carmen, Annette, Philip, Maritess, Edmin, Ted, and Tricia – all of whom have achieved remarkable things.
We remember Tatay not just as a father and grandfather, but as a beacon of integrity, service, and faith. His life was a blessing, an inspiration we cherish with love and fondness on All Saints’ Day, the day he came into the world.
I, Flor G. Tarriela, am the youngest of Tatay’s children, a finance and banking professional who also found joy in founding Flor’s Garden in Antipolo. But above all, I am a daughter forever grateful for the lessons he taught.
