irony

it puzzles me how a man can spend two consecutive nights partying and guzzling up booze heavily and not feel a tinge of exhaustion BUT complains of feeling soooooooo weak  and tired when asked to pick up his girl from work.

on my wishlist:

a new boyfriend

lettre d’adieu à mon papa

dear daddy,

i love you.  i know i never had the chance to tell you that when you were still alive and strong.  but somehow i know you still feel that love up to now.  there are so many things i’d like to tell you.  first, i’d like to thank you for everything.  i’m so grateful because you’re my dad.  you have been more than a real father to me.  you made me feel so loved and well taken care of. 

thank you for both the great and the small things you’ve done for me.  thank you for taking pride in my little achievements.  i remember how proud you were of me in each of the times you accompanied me to the stage to receive my merit cards in grade school.  how proud you were of me when you saw my first byline in college.  how proud you were of me  when you heard my voice over the AM radio.  how proud you were of me when you first saw my name on TPIR’s CBB…

thank you for always being supportive of all our endeavors…thank you for being so sweet and thoughtful.  thank you for being so loving and caring…for being so affectionate.  i would trade everything in this world to feel your embrace again…

i know that we have fought and argued so many times over the most trivial things, but i guess that was just normal–ours was just a typical father-daughter love-hate relationship.

daddy, i’m so sorry for everything i have done wrong.  i’m so sorry for having hurt your feelings in any way.  i’m sorry i haven’t been a good daughter.  i’m so sorry for always snapping at you.  for always getting ticked everytime  you mess up the floor, everytime you leave the kitchen dirty, everytime your slippers leave marks on the spotless bathroom floor.  i’m so sorry for always getting mad everytime you fail to use a serving spoon, everytime you return dirty knives in the canteen, everytime you use hand towels to wipe the table…i’m so sorry for not giving in to you lambings for shubong.  i’m so sorry for getting pissed whenever you complain that i’m such a phonehog…

i love you so much, daddy.  i wish i had been nicer and sweeter.  i wish i had been more thoughtful and more sensitive to your needs.  i wish i had been more patient and tolerant of you.  i wish i had been more understanding…

thank you for always having been there for all of us.   thank you for loving me like your own daughter.  i’d like you to know that i love you so much.  you’re my daddy. nothing’s gonna change that.  we share so many things in common.  we even share the same blood type.  we share the love for melted ice cream and medium rare meat and fish.  we even have the same scalp problem. 

daddy, i miss you already…

you just don’t know how hard it is to come home at night not finding you there.  how hard it is to wake up each morning not seeing you at the breakfast table thumbing through the papers.  how hard it is to look at the immaculate floor knowing that you will no longer be around to mess it up…

i miss the way you pamper all of us…especially the kids.  i miss the way you bicker with nanay, i miss the way you scold me, i miss the way you lash at kuya danny.  i miss your cooking.  kare-kare, caldereta and kinunot will never taste as good anymore…

i love you so much, daddy…

i regret that you will no longer be here to walk me down the aisle if and when i decide to settle down. 

i know i should let you go now but i just dunno how to begin…but i need to start somewhere.  i’ll try my best not to shed tears anymore and find strength and comfort in the thought that you’re home now…that you’re happy where you are–in God’s loving arms, in the company of angels…

i love you. 

-tambi

loss

when daddy was diagnosed with endstage cirrhosis of the liver i knew things are never gonna be the same again.  at the back of my head i knew that it was something really serious but i guess somehow i was still hoping that he’d recover from it.  when ate amy told me that the doctors said they no longer can do anything since daddy’s way too old and weak to undergo any procedure, i was devastated.  i cried myself to sleep.  but i kept praying for a miracle.  i kept hoping that maybe, just maybe, the Boss will change His mind and give daddy another chance…

the entire time he was in the hospital i made sure i get to visit him everyday even if it meant skipping work and blowing a huge career opportunity that came my way.  i tried hard to do everything i could to at least make him feel better.  i would give him sponge bath and brush his teeth—vain as daddy was, he would endure the discomfort of having to spit out the mouthwash every time.  his doctor even said, ‘daddy, ikaw pinakamabango ko pasyente dito.’ i treated him like a baby—i would dab him with baby powder and slather him with cologne. the last time i did so was sunday night, with tears glistening in my eyes.  i knew he saw my tears because he looked away when our eyes met.  it melted my heart seeing daddy so weak.  it hurt so bad seeing him that way—my daddy who used to be so strong couldn’t even sit straight. my daddy who was so fit and healthy looked so pallid and limp…

he just wasn’t the same…

when ate amy told me that his doctors advised that we call in a priest to administer last rites on him, i objected.  i just wasn’t prepared to throw in the towel.  but when they explained to me that it was no more than preparing him spiritually to accept his fate—that he might never recover from his sickness again, i gave in.  i wasn’t around when fr. rex, a nephew of daddy’s came over to anoint him on monday afternoon.  whatever it was that the priest told him must have done wonders for daddy that night.  when ate amy and i arrived at the hospital, he was unusually sound.  we talked to him and asked him if he wanted to come home—he said he’d rather stay in the hospital for a while.  he said he wanted all of us to spend christmas there.  after an hour or so, he started gasping for breath.  the oxygen mask he’s wearing wasn’t doing any good.  so his doctors were called.  while waiting for them, ate amy and i took turns talking to him…asking him to hold on…asking him if he’s tired…asking him if he could still wait for kuya lindy and paula to arrive from abroad…he kept saying ‘yes’.  he was struggling to breathe but he’s fighting so hard…fear tore at me but i kept holding on, i kept asking the Boss not to take my daddy yet…

he made it to the ICU safely.  when they finally allowed us to say goodnight to him before going home, i felt calm looking at him.  with machines attached to his fragile body, i felt a false sense of security—a sense of hope that perhaps, tomorrow would be better…

my faith got shaken tuesday morning when Miguel told me his lungs were getting weaker and his heart is on the verge of giving up…still, i felt kinda optimistic.  when nanay left the house to pay him a visit, it rekindled the flames of hope.  maybe when he sees nanay he’d be okay…

nanay was crying when habi and i got there.  she said she couldn’t bear seeing him suffer that much.  i felt nanay’s pain but i assured her everything will be okay…it was something i’d like to believe in…

just when we were about to leave the hospital, they rang us in the room and asked that someone go to the ICU.  i rushed upstairs feeling my strength gradually waning, when the ICU door opened i saw them pumping daddy—they were resuscitating him…tears streamed down my eyes, fear enveloped me…he can’t go yet…he’s not gonna leave us…not yet…

his cardiologist approached me—it all came as a blur.  she said they’re losing him…his lungs have failed and his heart just followed…i asked her to still do something—anything, i don’t want daddy to go…

but she said sorry and she led me to him.  his feet felt cold…the monitor was flat…i didn’t know what I felt right that minute.  life escaped me for a while.  my world stopped evolving.  i felt hollow…

i lost daddy…     

the Boss took him…i wanted to scream, i wanted to get angry, i wanted to turn back time but i couldn’t.

i felt so helpless and so small.

i made my way back to daddy’s room where nanay and ate amy were waiting.  ‘wala na si daddy.’  i embraced nanay tightly, trying to feel solace in her warmth but I realized she needed comfort more…

daddy’s gone.  he’s never coming back.  he took a part from all of us…none of us will ever be whole again…