When My Father Passed Away

Like a room that lost its light, that was my feeling when my father passed away.

How many years has it been? It’s been three years now. I have visited his grave twice already. I have to cross half the world, swallow my fear to see at least his name engraved on the tombstone. I didn't see him when he passed away. I only saw him dying on a video call. The message that told me that my father already gone, when I remember it, it's still like a nightmare.

Like a room that lost its light, that was my feeling when my father passed away. A cheerful person, his advice and stories relieve sadness. Simple man who grew up in hard life, accustomed to hardship, and happy to help in the small way he could.

I never get tired, and I will never get tired of always remembering the days I spent with him. He left a big space in my life that no one can replace. When I come home to the Philippines, he is no longer there, the one who patiently waits for me at the airport. Not only does he drive me around, he even takes me to the restaurant to feed me whatever I want to eat right away on my arrival. 

From childhood to my last day as a citizen of the Philippines, my father made me feel that I am a good daughter even though he was hurt by one of the biggest decisions I made in my life. Deep in my heart, I will never forget his advice to me and I will try to make my life go well now that I am married. Even though I have committed a great sin, I feel very much that God loves me and that he forgives me in his large way of forgiving. 

When I returned home to the Philippines with my husband and our five-months-old son, my father cried, tears of joy. He has forgiven me, and my God has forgiven me too. Hardworking man, always busy with his business and serving the God we worship. So when I found out that he was in the hospital and in a serious condition, I left my two-year-old son with my husband so that I can be with my family in the Philippines and could help them take care of my father. I spent two weeks with them. From the airport, I traveled 6 hours by bus, I went straight to the hospital. The doctor said that my father was lucky if he could make it to December, that time it was August already. But we are very happy that God extended my father's life for five years more. He recovered, from being like a skeleton to human again, my son even grows knowing him and loving him. 

I have written long now, what I intended to write is what I became when my father passed away. But I didn't realize that it would be easier to write down my father's memories because I never forget him. We love him very much and soon, we will see him again. It's just around the corner.

I always say that memory is a gift of God. If it is a bad memory, it can teach us valuable lessons in life for us to become a better person. If it is a good and happy memory, it is like we keep it in a jar, we open it whenever we feel the longing to be with it one more time, and will reminds us again that there is the greatness of being alive and holding a memory with the people we truly love with our both hands.