My father passed away 5 years ago, but I’d only gone to the cemetery the very first all souls’ day following his death. It’s not that I don’t want to go and do what most people do during this time of the year, neither do I refuse to be there because my father doesn’t matter to me anymore..no. Up until now I still haven’t reconciled with the fact that he’s gone and he will be for the rest of my life. I know it would be deemed alittle too dramatic by some who are more inclined to follow traditions than put weight to their emotions, I can’t blame them in the same way that I can’t blame those who after many years of grieving still haven’t found the strength to stare piercing sadness and longing in the eyes.. The pain’s just too excruciating to endure.
My father and I pretty much had something that normal fathers and sons have, we had our own share of arguments and bickering, we were too much alike that we often found ourselves caught up in ugly confrontations that eventually end into mutual retreats, both mortified by the realization that we’re both hard headed and would never accept defeat, yes, that’s how we were. That’s actually what I miss most about my father, he knew how stubborn I was, and I knew for certain he learned to deal with that, I got it from him that’s why.
My father didn’t care much about a lot of things, he was pragmatic, one of the very few traits that I unfortunately didn’t get or learn from him. I was struck by how ok he was about the idea of death, he often told me that if he’d die right then and there while we’re talking he’d be fine with it cos he thought I was stable enough to take care of myself and my mother. Those statements still echo in my head, not only because when he died I felt how real and how painful it is to lose a family, but because I could have asked him about what’s bothering him, I could’ve done something for him to ever forget about leaving us so soon. But I chose to keep quiet for I knew how sick he was, I wanted him to think that I was strong enough to assume the responsibilities to the family. But, God knows how much I wanted to fix him, the storm inside of me just wouldn’t subside, I was rebelling against the idea of taking over the what he’ll leave behind, but more than that, the anguish and the confusion as to why someone who had always been with me for almost 27 years would leave without ever coming back just like that..
I wanted to fix him so badly.. if I could just have a share of the pain he was in at the time I would have.
I don’t think this coming Nov.1 is gonna be any different from the past three Nov.1’s.. I still would choose to just stay home and wait for the pain to go away..
Hindi ko pa ulit kayang makita ang pangalan ng tatay ko sa lapida.
