Monday, September 6, 2010

Flashback '05...

I no longer know what is going on with the world and the people today. When I got home in Nueva Vizcaya for my birthday, I heard 3 of my highschool teachers died. And just when I got back in Manila, an old friend's father passed away. And today, the mother of an officemate. All deaths - caused by cancer. So now I'm crying like a little girl again....What do you expect? Flashback once more......Papa.

Lung cancer took Papa away from us five years ago. He was a chain smoker. It was first quarter of 2005 when Mama noticed his sudden weight loss. On April 2005, Papa seemed to be not only challenged by physical deterioration but also mental absence. Mama would find him many times just staring on blank space. And then, the headaches started to manifest, too. He was never the same since then. We decided to bring him here in Manila to seek medical help. On that same month, he was diagnosed with malignant brain tumor - the result of metastasis of a more severe condition, lung cancer. It was the hardest blow to our family that we had to endure.

Papa was once a sturdy man. He seemed to have swallowed a big ball on his tummy. I used to beat that part of him with my little hands like drums. His arms were very firm, like branches of trees. I used to cling to that arms for years. His legs were like steels, shaped by farming and climbing mountains at a young age. I used to ride on them like the logs of a seesaw. All these images of strength and resilience were gone. In his private room at St. Lukes one day before his major operation, I saw a weak man...full of fear. And there were tears in his eyes. In front of us, was my father crying for the first time. That moment was something I couldn't contain. I ran out of the room and shed tears of my own. Nothing is more heart-breaking for a girl than seeing the man she considered her "rock" to depend on, slowly falling down.

I'm a Papa's girl obviously (though I'm spoiled by Mama, too). He was my Math tutor, my chess-mate, my cooking partner, my driving coach, my playmate. But what I like best - he was my fan. I always had these confidence problems as a growing child. So he never failed praising me for my accomplishments. There were times that I find those praises too exaggerated. But he was my father...and I was his only daughter. I assume he never had a choice.....

I had my most memorable Valentine's day because of him. We had this 3rd periodical project for an art subject. I was the leader of one group. It was a blessing since one of my members, who happened to be a very dear friend of mine (Budz), volunteered to accommodate us in their humble home, few blocks away from our school, to finish our artwork. And since we had a deadline to beat (til 2PM of that unforgettable February 14), we decided to stay and had to pass lunch time just to finish the project. Cellphone was still not a hype during those years so situations like not going home for lunch wouldn't be known to one's parents until he/she gets home after the day's class. When I got home that afternoon, Papa instantly asked where I'd been. I told him the truth....the art project. He said I was just making an excuse and that I had this Valentine's date with someone. I knew it was a joke. But it had hit me for some reasons. As I mentioned earlier, I always had this trouble of not liking myself too much. So I answered him back - "Who in the world would ever want dating a horrible, boyish, fat, dark, flat-nosed human being like me?" Then I cried. He walked towards me, hugged me tight, kissed me on the forehead and uttered the words I never heard from a man all my life - "Stop crying, my baby! For me, you are the most beautiful person in the world!" With that, I cried even harder....

God is so good that He allowed me to spend the best of times with my sick father. I say the "best of times" because those moments were the perfect opportunities of unconditionally returning the love he had given me - the time that I had to take care of him in the simplest yet most loving way a daughter could do. I got the chance to cook for him and feed him, the chance to bathe and massage him, the chance to help him in and out of his wheelchair and walk him in malls, the chance to ignore the demands of work just to accompany him on radiation therapy sessions, the chance to skip meals just to save money for his diapers and medicines, the chance to stay wide awake in the hospital and just helplessly wait for what might come worst. I was young, weak and oftentimes irresponsible. But during those days, I was as hard as stone and in control.

And like sad movies, there's always an unhappy ending. In the morning of October 6, 2005, Papa left us. And the darkest days of my life started. It is so true that when we lost someone we love so much, always a certain part of us dies with him/her. It has been five years. I just turned 28...old enough. But I know I will never be that complete again. I wished Papa was still around in that past five years when I, his once little girl, fell in love, broke my heart, reached some simple dreams and still chase for the bigger ones.....

But I guess that's how life is. And sooner or later, I'll be seeing him again. How about tonight Papa? Be with me....in my dreams.....

2 comments:

  1. Awwww.... just started reading your blog and I really really like this one... I was so touched. Keep writing Fritz... how are you? hope you stumble upon this soon. Miss you!

    Lai

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  2. Ey Lai, nice to hear from you here. Me comment ka pala dito, hahaha! Thanks a lot! Emo-mode lang kaya bigla ako nasilip sa blog... :P Missing you too....ingats lage... :)

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