Happy Father's Day Pa!

Last year, were the last moments I spent with Papa. I remembered calling him on his birthday and father's day, and the only thing he can say is his shy "thank you" and "I'm fine!", then he goes "here's your Mama..."

I never really had a conversation with Papa as far as I can remember. He was always distant since I was always my Mama's girl. But I fondly recall how Papa used to play with me as soon as he gets home from the office. How he spoils me with a glass of milk every night before bedtime. Most often he does all the my household assignments so I can study or so. He had his own ways of being affectionate.

When, I came back from Hong Kong last August the complications brought about his brain tumour has affected his daily routine. He threw up most of the times and became incontinent, could not walk nor sit straight. Somehow he could not control himself any longer. He started babbling about different things, recalling past friends and activities, at times he would not recognize us or his friends. You would think he is suffering from Alzheimer's or purely senility at fifty six. His speech was slurred and his eyesight blurred. He was deterioriating.

Somehow, it was a blessing that I was always home - a fresh graduate and no full time job. He became my priority above other errands. Before leaving the house for meetings (preparing my wedding and doing freelance consultancy) I made sure he had breakfast and lunch, had his shower, changed his diapers and took his medications. I had to leave instructions to the caretaker as if a mother to a babysitter.

Everytime I'd leave him, he holds my hand oh so tight like a child clinging on to his parent right before leaving for work. Yes, he became our baby... He quietly sits in his chair, watching TV while everybody does their own thing. He doesn't complain, just sits there and smile. That I miss, greeting me everytime I'd come home.

Imagine the torture I went through when I was on my way back home last March? When he died, it was the worst day so far for me. Nothing comes close to losing a parent. I cannot even bring myself to look at his remains. I wanted to remember how he smiled everytime I arrived. That grin, even without saying a word gives the warmth of home. It was a sad homecoming indeed because the last time I saw him was my wedding day. He gave all his strength to see me walk down the aisle that day. I thought he'd still live the day to see his future grandkids. I was too optimistic.

Somehow, I feel guilty for having been an indifferent daughter at some point. I just hope that he died happy and loved. Happy Father's Day Pa! (",)