My father should be 86 last June 13. I miss him!
It’s been seven months since my father passed away at the age of 82. It came when I thought I am ready for the inevitable….but when it happened, I realized I am not prepared to lose a loving father.
Tatay is a wonderful person. Other people can easily out pour their emotions to him. He sympathized with them, and he was a good listener. He told me once, "sometimes people just want to tell their grievances and not necessarily need advice". That’s what he was to most of them…a shoulder to cry on.
He was so generous that he would give his share of his catch fish to his unlucky companion saying we can buy our own…so generous that half of his “pasalubong” from his trips were for our neighbors…so generous that from his meager pension he would lend money to his retiree friends knowing they cannot pay him.
He's a helpful man. Because he was very fond of writing correspondents, most of the veterans went to him for assistance. He asked a friend to give him an old typewriter so he can write letters for them. I remembered him telling me he wrote to a US President on veterans’ pension which he proudly showed off upon receiving a reply.
He always wrote letters to friends, pen pals and us, his children. When I was working in another province, he sent me letters which, now with so much regret, I oftentimes forgot to reply.
Another hobby of him was reading. We had so many books, magazines and journals in our house. He had Readers’ Digest subscription before and at an early age, I was so fond of this “little book”. I would often ask him if I can look at the pictures and on his lap he would tell me different stories about it. I guess that’s where I got my reading habit and my interest in this Digest which I eventually subscribe to when I started working.
When Tatay left in 1976 to serve his sentence, me, an older sister and my mother moved to another province leaving my three siblings behind. In my young mind, I often asked why my father had to do what he did that we all suffered especially my mom. But until now, this remains a question to me. Ever since that fateful day, we never knew what triggered that incident. He never told anyone, not even my mother.
After his death, we found his file of letters and journals. Entries in his journals were as early as 1957. Reading was so heartwarming because I can feel his emotions in every page. An entry which made me cry most was after the death of my mother in 1981. He was waiting in vain for our letters that never came. Looking back, I thought it was so insensitive of us, his children, that we never felt how lonely he was, alone in his cell grieving for the lost of his beloved wife and wondering how his children were coping without parents.
My memories of us together were not that many since he left when I was 9 and came back when I graduated in college. He served his sentence for 11 long years. Few months after he came home, I went to work on the other part of our Island. I only went home on some holidays and special occasions. After wards, I worked in Manila and got married. My family visited him, but most of it were short because of our work. But he understood, telling me and my husband to always love our work.
It’s always been like that…short visit, short encounter…until he got sick. He lost his sight, hearing and had memory lapses. He told me, “it’s better to die than live without a sight,” because he missed his readings. It was so depressing that one time he asked me to read a postcard from my sister. He was teary eyed that he cannot decipher a thing. I wanted to hug him at that very moment…but I didn’t.
Now, after he passed away…I regret that I didn’t hug him at that moment, that I didn’t thank him for the life, cares and love that he gave me…and that I never told him how much I love him.
When I left him that Sunday afternoon, three days before he died, I thought, though he was weak, I still have time to visit him and then tell him all my feelings….but now it’s too late.
Realization always comes late…what’s important is that you learn from it. And I did…now I will not wait for another time to tell someone what I feel for her/him.
Life is too short…I’ll seize the moment for maybe there will be no other time…..
Lipa City/10/24/06
