It's been eight months since my father passed away.
To be honest, I still cannot talk about it without tears. My friend once told me that 'the pain never does go away, time dulls it but it doesn't erase it. It's okay to cry.'
There were times that I would just find myself in tears...feeling so sad and painful in my heart. I miss my father. Writing this post makes me cry again.
Last week I went to Baguio to see my father's family, all of our relatives live there. My grandmother turned 95 and a cousin of mine got a church wedding and aunts and other cousins went home from abroad, it was a great family get together.
I was asked a few times about the day it happened, my father's final moments...I couldn't say a word without tears forming on the corner of my eyes...
Browsing old family photos in my grandmother's home, I found my father in some photographs....smiling, laughing...I cannot bear to look at the precious photos.
It was my father, who brought me and my sister back and forth to Baguio growing up. It was my father who went with me when I decided to study in Baguio. It was my father who ordered me to go back and continue my studies in Bacolod. He was my wall, my sturdy wall keeping me guarded and strong...tough and manly even if I grew up shy and gawky.
When he was older and been living on his small farm, he would listen to my stories and asked me things. Sometimes he would rely on what my opinion and decisions would be. He would follow my orders and requests especially when it comes to his medications.
It was hard losing him.
I feel so unguarded...the wall was gone.
It's true, the pain will never go away. It's just there in the corner of your heart.
All I need is to wash it down with tears...until when....I can never tell.
