i received a forwarded email originally sent by a colleague, he actually was my senior in high school back in Bicol. the email contains a message, a eulogy to his father who passed away due to cancer. he expressed how he misses his father, the pains and regrets of not having a chance to bond like the usual father-and-son would. honestly, i cant tell if i completely understand how he feels, i lost my father too. but my situation is in many ways different than his.
im not used to sharing experiences too personal as obvious in most of the entries on this blog. thought why not give it a try. this one though, i reckon, is too personal for a first time.
i lost my father when i was four years old. yeah, too young for a kid to experience such loss. much so were my siblings who were only three, one and eight months old when it happened. my dad, a policeman, died at an early age of 27 was battling against NPAs in a mountainous part somewhere in Bicol. no, he wasnt shotkilled. the morning after the encounter he was found dead, no autopsy done. i found out later from a father of a friend, who happened to be a colleague of my dad, that they speculated snake-bite as the COD, we declared “bangongot” as the cause.
although my dad’s demise was a tragic event so sudden and so painful to my mom and my dad’s relatives and friends, to us, his children, the pain and grief were not as intense. simply because we were just kids then. i, the eldest, could clearly recall how weird it was staring at my father whose lying perfectly still in an enclosed box. i even wondered how suffocating it could be for him inside that thing which i had no idea would last some days. my mom, my aunts, they tried to let us understand, young as we were, that our dad was gone. we cried, only because they were crying. honestly, it didnt make sense before just looking back now. i suppose my siblings were way oblivious of what was happening then. after all of it, i started to realize we’re missing someone home. my dad, due to the nature of his work, i remember, was almost always not home. he might have been going home late from work then for us to even notice. but eventually we noticed the presence that used to roam the house, the voice, the image, all of it slowly fading to memories. then came a child’s innocent realization, he’s gone.
it never crossed my mind that his loss would be a scary load i confidently shouldered having told my mom she need not find another dad, i told her i’ll stand as the father of the family and i’ll take care of her and my siblings. seriously, i promised that my mom. that being said by a four-year- old clueless of the enormous responsibility that came with it. well, i stood by that promise. i tried to mature twice or three times as fast a normal mature rate would allow a boy–i mean to try to think, comprehend and act as a grown up as much as i could then at such a young age. i even attended a PTA meeting along with my sibling’s parents. seriously. there were things i needed to explore, or most of the time dicover, all by myself what anyone’s father would gladly, willingly teach or show or tell their children, or son for that matter. these things–for the boys–, i deemed, i had to experience not for the sake of having to experience them, i needed to enjoy, suffer, regret, live through all of it good and bad just so i could responsibly impart them to my younger bros and somehow provide them right if not intelligent pieces of advice taking advantage of the “been there, done that” thing. it was not easy, believe me. no one was there standing as a father as i grew up, it never was easy, there were things that only a father could do. i thought why allow my younger bros to experience the same when they had me by their side. there were a lot of firsts that scared the hell out of me simply because no father was around, especially during the adolescent stage, and the “rite of passing to manhood” and the dating thing and drinking and the likes. i could tell it with pride, i’ve been there for my younger brothers to accompany them, guide them, give advice. been around when they needed someone to confide with or talk to or to answer awkward, embarassing, humiliating, flat out “man” questions. i was there.
my sister now holds a stable position in a bank now, both my bros just finished college, one taking up law and the other a certified nurse. we’ve gone a long way, i suppose. my mom is a proud parent who single-handedly carried us through. she’s a one-tough-hard-working woman with a will of steel yet could only do so much. there are just things only a dad can do, same way that only a mother can show that distinct motherly love and care. she did an astounding job bringing us up after our dad’s loss. i just hope i was able to fulfill the promise i made to her helping her out rearing her children, her sons in a way so discreet and mysterious only my bros and i, including all other man i guess, understand.
im not used to sharing experiences too personal as obvious in most of the entries on this blog. thought why not give it a try. this one though, i reckon, is too personal for a first time.
i lost my father when i was four years old. yeah, too young for a kid to experience such loss. much so were my siblings who were only three, one and eight months old when it happened. my dad, a policeman, died at an early age of 27 was battling against NPAs in a mountainous part somewhere in Bicol. no, he wasnt shotkilled. the morning after the encounter he was found dead, no autopsy done. i found out later from a father of a friend, who happened to be a colleague of my dad, that they speculated snake-bite as the COD, we declared “bangongot” as the cause.
although my dad’s demise was a tragic event so sudden and so painful to my mom and my dad’s relatives and friends, to us, his children, the pain and grief were not as intense. simply because we were just kids then. i, the eldest, could clearly recall how weird it was staring at my father whose lying perfectly still in an enclosed box. i even wondered how suffocating it could be for him inside that thing which i had no idea would last some days. my mom, my aunts, they tried to let us understand, young as we were, that our dad was gone. we cried, only because they were crying. honestly, it didnt make sense before just looking back now. i suppose my siblings were way oblivious of what was happening then. after all of it, i started to realize we’re missing someone home. my dad, due to the nature of his work, i remember, was almost always not home. he might have been going home late from work then for us to even notice. but eventually we noticed the presence that used to roam the house, the voice, the image, all of it slowly fading to memories. then came a child’s innocent realization, he’s gone.
it never crossed my mind that his loss would be a scary load i confidently shouldered having told my mom she need not find another dad, i told her i’ll stand as the father of the family and i’ll take care of her and my siblings. seriously, i promised that my mom. that being said by a four-year- old clueless of the enormous responsibility that came with it. well, i stood by that promise. i tried to mature twice or three times as fast a normal mature rate would allow a boy–i mean to try to think, comprehend and act as a grown up as much as i could then at such a young age. i even attended a PTA meeting along with my sibling’s parents. seriously. there were things i needed to explore, or most of the time dicover, all by myself what anyone’s father would gladly, willingly teach or show or tell their children, or son for that matter. these things–for the boys–, i deemed, i had to experience not for the sake of having to experience them, i needed to enjoy, suffer, regret, live through all of it good and bad just so i could responsibly impart them to my younger bros and somehow provide them right if not intelligent pieces of advice taking advantage of the “been there, done that” thing. it was not easy, believe me. no one was there standing as a father as i grew up, it never was easy, there were things that only a father could do. i thought why allow my younger bros to experience the same when they had me by their side. there were a lot of firsts that scared the hell out of me simply because no father was around, especially during the adolescent stage, and the “rite of passing to manhood” and the dating thing and drinking and the likes. i could tell it with pride, i’ve been there for my younger brothers to accompany them, guide them, give advice. been around when they needed someone to confide with or talk to or to answer awkward, embarassing, humiliating, flat out “man” questions. i was there.
my sister now holds a stable position in a bank now, both my bros just finished college, one taking up law and the other a certified nurse. we’ve gone a long way, i suppose. my mom is a proud parent who single-handedly carried us through. she’s a one-tough-hard-working woman with a will of steel yet could only do so much. there are just things only a dad can do, same way that only a mother can show that distinct motherly love and care. she did an astounding job bringing us up after our dad’s loss. i just hope i was able to fulfill the promise i made to her helping her out rearing her children, her sons in a way so discreet and mysterious only my bros and i, including all other man i guess, understand.
just hope i did a nice job filling in that gigantic combat shoe he left some twenty years ago.
No comments:
Post a Comment