THE MAN OF STEEL THE MAN OF STEE THE MAN OF STE THE MAN OF ST THE MAN OF S THE MAN OF THE MAN O THE MAN THE MA THE M THE TH T TH THA THAT THAT I THAT IS THAT IS M THAT IS MY THAT IS MY D THAT IS MY DA THAT IS MY DAD
Papa:Nak halika nga dito. *seryoso tapos parang galit*
Ako:Lord, promise po di ko na papatayin ang mga ipis kahit gaano sila ka kadiri dahil living creature din po sila at may karapatan din po silang mabuhay basta po di galit ngayon si papa sa mga kalokohan ko Lord please po huhu.
Ang hirap maging anak ng isang OFW. Seriously, malungkot. Lagi kong hinahanap yung tatay ko. Noong una, ang saya ko na aalis yung tatay ko kasi sobrang strict nun: namamalo. Pero nung aalis na siya, naiiyak talaga ako. That time, 3 months na lang bago ako gagraduate ng elementary. Kasama pa naman ako Top noon. Ang lungkot talaga. Na sa phone ko na lang nakakausap yung tatay ko. Lagi nga akong tumatakbo sa kama ko kapag natatapos na akong makipag usap sa kanya. Akala ng lahat masaya magng anak ng OFW dahil nagkakaroon ka ng mga bagay na hindi agad agad nakukuha ng iba. Pero sa totoo lang hindi, dahil sa tuwing naiisip ko yung tatay ko, na wala kapag Pasko, New Year at iba pang okasyon. Ang sakit. Doon mo mararamdamang may kulang talaga. Nakakamiss na yung tatay ko. Alam naming lahat na ang mahirap ang trabaho sa ibang bansa at pawis at dugo ang ginugugol nila para mapadalahan kami. It’s the greatest sacrifice that a man can do for his family. Namimiss ko na yung tatay ko sobra.
Sorry. Sorry for being so emotional. Sorry for being weak. Sorry for not being strong enough to handle the pain. But I guess this is just too much. And I really don’t know what else I can do.
I haven’t talk about it for a long time because I’m trying to be strong and I don’t wanna break down and cry. But I guess I was wrong. I WAS PRETENDING TO BE STRONG.
9 months ago, my father had died. He left without a single hint given. It was a sudden loss and I was not given the chance to see him for one last time to say my goodbye. It took me a long time to accept this. And I don’t think I considered me being able to let go and move on. Because I just can’t let him go.
One month after, my mother became sick. The doctors told us that the cause was depression, a side effect of my father’s death I guess. Soon enough, my mother started having these little white circles in her tongue and wounds in her neck.
Few months later, she was diagnosed with cancer. But she had this open wound in her neck that would be too risky for chemotherapy. And the doctors gave us two choices. One, risk and continue the therapy but this might lead to sudden death. Two, stop the therapy but the cancer cells will spread in her body and she will be weaker and weaker. Wow, so we really don’t have a choice right? And I was like, whoa. We haven’t fully recovered yet and now there’s another one coming. Fuck my life.
And a while ago, she can’t hardly breathe and she was not responding to any of us. It was so terrifying that for a second, I thought we would lose her. But thankfully, she’s sort of okay now.
I kept this for so long because I don’t want everyone to know what’s happening with my life. I don’t bother telling this to people who doesn’t really care. I don’t want people hugging me just because they felt obliged to do so. I don’t want people telling me everything’s going to be alright because I know that it’s not.
I can’t do this anymore. I’m so tired of pretending that I was happy. So tired of pretending that I was strong. So tired of pretending that it was all fine. So tired of pretending I was okay. And now, I wanna let it all out. Just for once, I wanna be true to myself.
So Friday was my dads 50th birthday party and we cooked, and cooked, and freakin cooked.
Pretty much the typical Filipin@ feast.
Feast your eyes on all the Filipin@ food! Hahaha.
And you all know what was eaten first.
The lechon. Oh ya. Which is funny because the pig eaten in Filipin@ feasts today is pretty much a long time tradition from pre-colonial times when the Babaylan would sacrifice the pig and during the ritual she would kill it with a spear before they gave it out to the people to eat.
Now the pig is already dead here (though if we were in the Philippines we would be taking one of the pigs my family raises instead), but my tatay pretty much took the role impaling the pig.
I got to see my old childhood friend again. Her parents, especially her dad, is good friends with my dad and my mom and we pretty much grew up together though we don’t see each other much anymore mainly because we don’t throw as many parties as we used to in the past. Why? Mainly because during times like birthdays and such where we would throw a party we are usually out on vacation somewhere either camping or going to different states or something.
And actually I kind of do miss my family throwing parties.
Anyway so we did the typical things Filipin@’s do at parties. Karaoke and dancing. Which again, actually comes from pre-colonial times to when feasts would typically go on for nights and days on end and you would have people singing and chanters chanting songs and poems of heroes, heroines, stories of the community and the ancestors, and of the gods and goddesses.
My mom also hired a bellydancer as a surprise. My friend thought I was joking when I told her earlier on in the night and then when the bellydancer arrived she was like, wait there really is a bellydancer? And I laughed telling her I was serious.
Then there was also my cousins friends who wanted to come because they wanted to try Filipin@ food. They wouldn’t stop eating lets just say that lol.
This was the speech I made for my final requirement in Eng223 last year. This is dedicated to my Tatay. Today is his first death anniversary.
There was a strange silence one late night while I was walking home. As I opened the door, frowning faces welcomed me. My sisters then told me that our father was rushed into the hospital. My jaw dropped. I didn’t know what to say.
This was not the first time that my father was confined into the hospital. This was the fourth time, actually. And normally, I would still go to school despite of that bad news. But this time, I decided not to go to school. I don’t know why but I just wanted to stay at home.
The next morning, I woke up hearing noises from outside the room. Everyone seemed to be happy. Strange because of what happened the day before. Well, I guess there seems to be good news waiting for me. So I rushed out of the room, hoping to see my father. But to my dismay, it was just my sisters busy preparing food.
But still, there is some sort of good news. The doctor told my sister that when the results of the examination come out, maybe, just maybe we could bring our father back home. There is no assurance but yet, there’s still a chance.
My sister went back to the hospital to get news from the doctor. Surprised, she saw our mother crying. Our father was brought to the ICU and is in a critical condition. She immediately called us to relay us the information. Hearing what my sister had just said, I found myself doing the only thing that I can do for my father. Pray. I was begging for God to extend my father’s life. He was my hero, my protector, my teacher. I can’t imagine life without him. And with those thoughts, the phone suddenly rang.
And that was it. My father had died.
I had never experienced the loss of someone I loved. It is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with. At first, I thought I could be strong. I felt strong. I pretended that everything was okay. But it’s not. Every night before I go to sleep, I feel tears fill up my eyes and run down my cheeks. It’s hard to breathe and everything hurts. I feel shattered, bewildered and frightened. It was as if a part of me had died. And it had.
Everything I do reminds me of my father. I live life as if he were right there in front of me. In a way, he is. I knew he will always be right next to me.
I soon began to receive and experience the incredible healing power of love. It came mysteriously. It was an honest outpouring from the people who surrounded me. During this time, my tears would come as easily as the memories of my father. I stayed with my sadness. I shared it with others and received great comfort. Sooner, I was able to handle the situation.
I think I am letting him go. It is not that my love is diminished or that I miss him less. It’s just that I started accepting the reality that he is never ever going to come back home.
While it is very painful to say goodbye to my father, I am comforted at what he has done for me over the years. When I was born, he was there to catch me when I fall. When I took my first steps, he was there to encourage me. When I said my first words, he was there to teach me the whole dictionary if possibly. When I had my first day at school, he was there to give me advice and help me with my homework. Like a dedicated teacher, he looked for every opportunity to learn and to teach me something. Growing up, I felt his love every day. His unique laugh joyfully filled my heart. How I spent my childhood years was awesome because I spent it with my father. They were good years and they are treasures that I cling to. His total dedication as my father left me with many cheerful memories. And that is what defined the word “father” for me.
There were so many things that I want to say but I cannot put into words. So many things I want to share with my father and yet I never found the right time to express those thoughts. And now, he’s gone. Regrets came crashing in. I regret not doing all the things fathers and daughters should have done together when I was a kid. I regret spending those times that I’ve wasted with some other people when I should’ve been in my father’s side. I regret not thanking him and not letting him know that I love him so much. But I know it’s never too late for a daughter to express her love for his father. So I’m taking this opportunity to have a message for him.
“Father, your path has ended too soon. Not long enough for me to hold your hand. Not long enough to meet your eyes. Not long enough to stay by your side. Not long enough to laugh with you. Not long enough to walk with you. With you who have taught me to be the person I am. You won’t see me graduate from college. You won’t be able to walk me down the aisle. You won’t be able to see my first child. You won’t comfort me as life pushes me down. But I know that no matter what, you will always be with me. When life separates us, I know it is only your soul saying goodbye to your body but your spirit will be with me always. I’ll always remember that special smile, that caring heart, that warm embrace you always gave me. I’ll always remember you because there will never be another one to replace you in my heart. I’ll be forever thankful for having you as my father. I love you more than the world will ever know.”
Someone said to me once, “You never get over it, but you learn to live with it”. So I guess I just have to learn to live with it. After all, our time down here is temporary and our real home is upstairs with God. I know that one day we will be together again on a new journey. And in that journey, I will again experience a love like no other.
Kagabi, nag-iinuman ang mga kapatid ko dito sa baba habang naisama ka sa usapan randomly at sa kung gaano ka pinagmamalaki ng mga kapatid ko sa mga kaibigan nila. So far, ikaw palang ang kilala kong elementary graduate pero nakapagpatapos ng tatlong college, at kasama ako sa tatlong ‘yon. O siya, nabati na kita kanina sa skype ng happy father’s day, sabi mo pa nga “Wah english yun ah”, well, maligayang araw ng mga ama sa'yo. From your not so mushy daughter *ehem*.
PS: Nakainuman ko na ang mga kapatid ko, sana pag-uwi mo dito sa pinas, ikaw naman.
I have discovered something I didn’t know about my parents. My sister and I were talking a while ago about some random stuffs when this topic came out of nowhere. Since forever, I thought that my parents had the most perfect relationship. (redundancy intended) But basically, I was wrong.
Back when I wasn’t in this world yet, my father had an affair with another woman. My grandmother had come to know this affair and was really mad at my mother for defending my father. But my mother insisted that they were arguing about something else and that my father’s not having an affair with another woman. She doesn’t want my sisters to know about this that’s why she’s trying to keep my father’s image clean to their eyes.
But it was true. My father already packed his bag and nearly left our home. My sister don’t know what really happened because my mother is careful of not allowing my sisters to know what was really going on. But thankfully, they resolved the issue and my father stayed with us.
It was really unbelievable. And to think that I grew up not hearing or seeing my parents argue that much. It was so shocking. But now I know the reason why my father loves my mother that much. He made a great mistake but my mother still stood up for him. He’s such a lucky guy to have my mother.