When I was small, I dreamt that my father died. The pain of loss was so great, I woke up crying. Then I woke up to realize it was just a dream. I was very much relieved. There are many times since Monday, May 29, when I hoped that just like before, this is all just a dream. And for each time, I have to accept that it isn't. Tatay succumbed to chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (emphysema), hypertensive cardiovascular disease and hospital acquired pneumonia. He was 64.
When I was a little girl, I used to go up the verandah in the afternoons and be on the lookout until I see him appear in the corner. I would announce to my sisters "Tatay is here!" and we would scamper downstairs to lovingly welcome him. For most of my adult years, I had feared more than loved this man. There were many times when I wondered where the love went. Tatay was a disciplinarian who believed in the saying "spare the rod and spoil the child." In the hierarchy of household discipline, his was the highest level. He used this sparingly but the prospect of his belt was something we feared . And almost everyone used that knowledge to force us into submission. Which was unfair to him I now realized. There he was, working to provide for us, and we were left at home threatened that we would get it when he got home for our misdemeanors. It was inevitable that we would fear him and avoid him rather than appreciate him and cuddle up to him. The past month when COPD took its toll on him, Tatay gradually weakened. He was bedridden the past three weeks and we had to care for him. And while it was painful to see him suffer, I realized that the past weeks made us closer to him and helped us bridge the gap that had separated us all those years. And now I weep. But not for Tatay who is now at peace. I weep for that little girl whose love was replaced by misguided fear. For the years that would have been more meaningful and love-filled. For being so worried about incurring more debt and deciding not to bring the kids over on what should have been our last Christmas with him. For thinking I had enough time.
My relationship with Tatay taught me that God and family come first; that friends, both at and off work are important; that while we try hard to become good parents, we will always make mistakes; and that I should always consider each day a gift to be shared with loved ones.
Pride made me think that Tatay's illness made forgiveness possible. From me, to him. Now I fervently pray that it I was right. This time for me, from myself.
My relationship with Tatay taught me that God and family come first; that friends, both at and off work are important; that while we try hard to become good parents, we will always make mistakes; and that I should always consider each day a gift to be shared with loved ones.
Pride made me think that Tatay's illness made forgiveness possible. From me, to him. Now I fervently pray that it I was right. This time for me, from myself.
