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.