Je t'aime, Popsy!

Je t'aime, Papa/Popsy/Poppykins/Daddy! Tu me manques.

I stumbled upon this cartoon and it immediately reminded me of my dad. He didn't let me smoke, of course but he did allow me to drink beer when I was 6. Needless to say, I still hate the stuff with a passion. I only drink beer when I really need to which is practically never and I have yet to learn to actually love the stuff.

To those who don't know, my dad passed away a couple of years back. It was a long and painful journey for my family and one that haunts me still. I am hoping that perhaps writing about it now will help heal some of the wounds that are festering in my heart.

I am the eldest and was the only child for 6 years. I was, to put it mildly, headstrong. I was taught by my dad to do what I thought was right. I was told to stand up for what I believed in and never let anybody shortchange me. I demanded what was due and nobody was allowed to treat me less than what I deserved. Di naman ako spoiled, I didn't get everthing that I wanted, promise. I was just stubborn as stubborn can be. I also idolized my dad. He was smart and successful. He used to take me to his alma mater and there was a time when I could name the buildings in Ateneo without consulting a map. He wanted to become a lawyer but never got to pursue it for more practical reasons. Needless to say, it became an obsession for me. For as long as I can remember, I only had one dream and it was to study in Ateneo and be a lawyer. (How I ended up taking Com Sci in DLSU is an entirely different story that deserves another blog entry)

So, can you imagine the brouhaha when I fell in love (I'm using the term loosely because looking back now, I can only laugh at myself and what I have done) in high school? My dad wouldn't hear of it, I was too young and they had strong objections to the guy. Stubborn girl that I am, I did what only teenagers do so well. I started a rebellion. Thus was the beginning of a gap between my dad and I that widened like the Grand Canyon as years passed by. We would constantly fight and when I say "fight" I mean shouting matches, cold wars and the like. Oh, I am not proud of it. I cringe everytime I remember the things that I have said to my dad. We were constantly fighting and he found fault in everything that I did. It was a shock to everyone when we learned that he had colon cancer and that it was already classified as stage 3. I can still vividly remember picking up his test results at Makati Med and having to be the one to break it to him that he was sick. I thought that I was pretty cool with it at the time. At least, I thought I was. Of course with perfect hindsight I now know that everyone else took it better than I did. I was in denial. My hero was gravely sick. It was so hard for me to see him weak and in pain that I continued on with my life like nothing was wrong. I was selfish and didn't spend as much time with him as I now wish I did. I couldn't bear the fact that he was more human than I thought he was... I felt so cold inside, like a part of me had died.

My dad underwent chemo and radiation and was declared clean as a whistle a year later. He was constantly praying to be given 4 more years on earth just so he could see my sister graduate from high school. True enough, after 4 years my dad started getting irritable. We started another round of constant fighting and screaming and it was then that my mom and I started worrying about his health. We begged him to go to the doctor and after much argument, he went only to come back and tell us all that the cancer had spread to his lungs and bones. His doctor was still trying to be optimistic but I think deep down inside, my dad had accepted his fate. I, of course, did not. I begged him to go to the US for treatment but he wouldn't hear of it. In the end, he allowed himself to undergo treatment at Makati Med but only to stop our constant begging and nagging. I had to resort to emotional blackmail that it would kill us all if he left us but deep in my heart I knew that my dad had already accepted it all. That was what pissed me off. It felt to me like he was giving up on us and I wouldn't have it. He would beg me to spend more time with him because he was dying and I would retort that he won't die, I won't let him. I'm so ashamed of how selfish I was.

A few days before he died, he called us one by one and talked to us. I don't think I will ever forget the last conversation we had. He started by asking me to let him go because he was so tired and he wanted to rest. He told me that one of the reasons why he hasn't let go yet was because he was so worried about me. He felt that I hadn't come to terms with his impending death and he said that it wasn't healthy for me to go on that way. As you can guess by now, the conversation became another argument. He eventually got me to calm down and told me to be strong. He said that he loved me very much and he asked me to take care of my mom, my sis and my bro. He made me promise him that I would continue to live my life as if he were alive. It was his wish that I lived my life freely without feeling that I had to limit myself and take care of our family. Last promise he had me make was that I was to choose the right husband. He asked me to take my time and not settle for less. I wasn't listening to him that time for I knew how much he disliked my current boyfriend.

He lost his ability to speak 3 days later. He was so weak and his lungs were filled with water. I had to change oxygen tanks 6 times a day. He passed away on a Monday, 4 days after our talk. I was there to see it and the sight of him taking his last breath haunts me still.

Most people were amazed at how quickly I recovered but the truth of the matter is, I haven't really recovered. Not now, not ever. I still miss my dad and I dream of him sometimes. I have so many regrets, the biggest of which is that I never got to tell him that he was THE perfect dad and that I love him so much.

Guys, after you've read this, can you do one thing for me, please? Go to your parents and tell them how much you love them before it's too late.

NOW is always a good time to tell someone how much they mean to you.

Faith, Hope and Love

got the following from ala's blog... too beautiful not to share.
----------------


If you love someone, ask him for nothing. Don't hold him from his destiny. Don't keep him from going off in search of his own answers. Don't ask him for commitment. You will know commitment is real when it is something given willingly, and not as something obligatory. Don't ask him for promises. If you are patient, if you have faith, you will know in your heart when the right time for promises has come.


And when that time arrives, then you will see that you have both lost nothing by setting each other free, and have instead gained a richer, fuller life, a wealth of experiences, and a stronger certainty of your desires.


But should he not return to you, then life hasn't cheated you because no promises were broken. Your bitterness will not last long, and you will feel thankful and blessed that at the very least, this beautiful soul has colored your life, that knowing him has already made life infinitely more meaningful.


By setting a person a free, you run a risk of him not returning. But always remember that you found him beautiful precisely because he was free. People are like sunlight. You can feel their warmth, and their glow, but you can't hold them in your hand and keep them with you forever. People choose to stay. But a choice is made more meaningful when it is made despite so many other options.
----------------


I highlighted the stuff that spoke volumes to me. To those who wrote comments on my previous blog entry, thank you so much for the priceless words of encouragement. There really is no safety net, I know that just as I am aware that all I really can do is hope for the best, have faith in him that he won't break my heart and love freely. It's time to crawl out of my dark cave and walk into the sunlight. At some point, I have to stop watching life pass me by and start living again. Why not now?


So far, it has been an awfully good year for me, inspite of all the drama going on. I have met so many new people and the timing of each new friend, encounter or event always seems to be perfect. Exactly when I needed it most. Depressed over something? I meet someone who makes me laugh. Getting too confident? I meet someone who drags me back to earth. It's too perfect that I can no longer consider them as coincidence. It's like I'm living a treasure hunt and the clues are revealed to me one at a time by God. I know that each person, each event in my life has a purpose and a lesson that needs to be learned. I've been tiring and stressing myself so much trying to figure out how I can get my life back on track and my revelation for today is that we can only do so much, the rest we have to leave up to Fate.


Yep, I'm starting to believe in Fate again.


So for this particular period in my life, all I can say is:
I will continue to hope that there's something good at the end of the rainbow.
I shall never lose faith in God and His plans for me.
I will no longer waste a day away hiding from love.

Self-Preservation Mode: ON

"i'd like to believe that we have to go through the heartaches, disappointments and false starts in order to be clearer about who we are and what we want.. but, it's also possible we were better at love when we knew less. maybe it's time to stop analyzing, stop growing up and just enjoy..."

Mishy sent that message to me a long time ago but I never really appreciated it 'til recently. It's true, it really is.

We learn a lesson with each failed relationship, broken heart or disappointment. After some time, we start to think that we've gone through so much suffering and start believing that we know everything. We believe that we are wiser when it comes to the ways of the world. We often tell our friends how glad we are that we've recovered and how we escaped unscathed. But are we wiser? Did we escape without any battle scars? Really?

The older we get and the more disappointments we have endured, the more cynical we become. If you don't believe me, then you're still in denial, my friend.

There's cynicism, realism and then there's optimism.

Which one applies to you? Which one do I project? I honestly don't know... I thought I knew everything and was finally working things out in my head. You all know how impulsive I was and how I never held anything back for love. I never thought, I just felt. I was such a huge mess after my 6-year relationship ended. I fell apart and thought the pain would kill me. I swore to everyone that I will recover in record time, learn my lesson and never again let my heart rule. In short, I will start using my head and I did. At least, I tried to. Oh, how I thought about every single thing and analyzed every situation. The irony of it all is that people are now telling me "stop thinking and just enjoy today. don't worry about tomorrow. carpe diem" because they care and feel that I am driving myself insane.

The truth of it all is that I'm scared. Yes, me. I am constantly looking out for myself and trying really hard not to be the person that I was a year ago. The person that I was loved freely with no questions asked and look at where she got me. I'm supposed to know everything, be wiser now that I am older but deep inside, I'm starting to wonder. I hide behind everything I've learned and use all that knowledge to keep my heart safe. Each gesture is met with suspicion and my actions, calculated. Everyone is now a suspect and trust is hard to come by. Does that make me wiser? Does it make me safe?

My heart is screaming "NO!" but my mind is drowning it out with reassurances that I am better off this way. Nevertheless, it makes me feel cheated. People around me live their lives hiding. They put price tags on their love and demand security or equal affection in return. They compare their past and present, set up criteria, measure affection and love with reservations.

"I love you but I love myself more"

"If you loved me you would..."

We are more concerned for our well-being than that of the other person. Oh, don't get me wrong. I am still all out for using the brain, especially since we need it for fully committing to another person. What I am against is when we use our brains more for our sake than that of the other party. I am against it when we calculate risks and walk out when we feel that we won't profit from the relationship.

Tell me, are there really any guarantees? Can you look me in the eye and assure me that your past mistakes will save you from heartache? That getting married will ensure you a happy, worry-free and a full of love existence for as long as you live?

Love was never meant to be cut up in portions nor was it supposed to be held in check. Children loved and trusted just about anyone. Do them wrong and they can easily forgive you without any reservations. Perhaps, we were better at love when we knew less...

I just wish I weren't so scared. Maybe then I'll find love again.

j'ai envie de dormir, mais je ne peux pas. je n'y arrive pas! dis-moi ce que tu m'as fait?