Last 16 April, my family commemorated my father's two years death anniversary. As a busy OFW, I planned to go to church and failed. My mom and sister visited him at the cemetery, while I ended up lighting a candle for him at the back of my house.
As I await for the candles to burn out, I traveled to my last memories of Papa. You see, I will not be in Qatar if not for him. While he was not so keen about me going abroad since what I have in the Philippines is really not bad, he supported my impulsive job hunt by giving me leads. And when finally I had an offer with the company I now work for, he was the one who read the contract and reviewed my offer. He said ok, and I was ok. Three days before he died, I told him that I will not work abroad anymore. I was just waiting for my work visa then. Lying in the ICU bed, he opposed the plan and promised to wait for the day that I return after my two years contract. He promised that we will still tour the Philippines and eventually abroad together. It was the first broken promise of him that I can remember, and I will be forever brokenhearted.
But now he is gone. And I am, like how we was before he retired, an OFW. Suddenly, everything made more sense now. What he sacrificed to make me, Mama and my sister's life comfortable is more real. It is shameful that while I appreciated everything then, it is only now that I completely understood what his sacrifice meant--his whole life.
I am single, and this past two years is the only time I felt that I really worked so hard. I was never into expensive things or gadgets, nor bags and clothes. But I would admit that to a certain extent I still feel that what I have is never enough. And so I thought of Papa. He used to go home yearly to us with big balikbayan boxes. We always had the latest toys and gadgets, the latest appliance, which my mom never uses. I struggle completing two balikbayan boxes! How did he do that? I can only imagine.
Sometimes, at the verge of despair, I wanted to just pack my bags and go. The stress can be so much. And when I do that, I confidently say that I have nothing to lose. I can just go, pay for my bond, and go back to the Philippines. I think of the times that maybe my Papa felt the same. But unlike me, he can never just go back home, as he has bigger responsibilities -- house mortgage, school, food etc etc... I go back to the time when I was big enough to understand that he was having a hard time with his boss, I listened to his whines, but witnessed how he sustained, and painstakingly finished the contract. He did it, for us.
I remembered that day I had to bring myself to the hospital here in Doha. Alone. I told myself to be brave because I had no one to look after me. I wondered how many times Papa fell sick and we were not there to take care of him. I bite into my chocolate everyday thinking that this was how Papa got his diabetes, and then stopped my sweet cravings just for a day of two. I think of the time Papa calls us once a week and writes to us consistently while I send a message to Mama once a week as well despite Viber. Shameful.
I am writing this blog at my favorite coffee place. Today is Papa's birthday and I decided to celebrate it. Here in this corner nook I fight the tears as everything seemed to be still unreal. Papa has taught me lessons and it is more meaningful today. He was my example of strength, faith, and of selfless love. I am proud to have gotten from him my simple ways of living, and I hope to be generous like him too.
Papa, while I know that things will never be the same again, I will continue seeing the world through your eyes, ensuring to live the life that you have always wanted me to have. I will go to the places we plan to go together, and the person you have raised me to be. Mama, Candy and I will always bring honor to your name. And while I will change my last name soon to the man I believe is so much like you, I will always be a Camingawan and my kids will be raised like one.
The barista in this coffee shop sings a song which coincidentally captures this moment. Happy birthday Papa. I love you with all my heart.
"Sa bawat pag-ikot ng ating buhay
May oras kailangan na maghiwalay
Puso'y lumaban man walang magagawa
Saan ka, kailan ka, muling mahahagkan
Magkulang man sa atin itong sandali
Alam ko na tayo'y magkikitang muli
Hangga't may umaga pa na haharapin
Ikaw lang ang mamahalin..."
Dear Kuya Barista, please stop singing the song na. Iiyak na ko ng bongga. Bow.
As I await for the candles to burn out, I traveled to my last memories of Papa. You see, I will not be in Qatar if not for him. While he was not so keen about me going abroad since what I have in the Philippines is really not bad, he supported my impulsive job hunt by giving me leads. And when finally I had an offer with the company I now work for, he was the one who read the contract and reviewed my offer. He said ok, and I was ok. Three days before he died, I told him that I will not work abroad anymore. I was just waiting for my work visa then. Lying in the ICU bed, he opposed the plan and promised to wait for the day that I return after my two years contract. He promised that we will still tour the Philippines and eventually abroad together. It was the first broken promise of him that I can remember, and I will be forever brokenhearted.
But now he is gone. And I am, like how we was before he retired, an OFW. Suddenly, everything made more sense now. What he sacrificed to make me, Mama and my sister's life comfortable is more real. It is shameful that while I appreciated everything then, it is only now that I completely understood what his sacrifice meant--his whole life.
I am single, and this past two years is the only time I felt that I really worked so hard. I was never into expensive things or gadgets, nor bags and clothes. But I would admit that to a certain extent I still feel that what I have is never enough. And so I thought of Papa. He used to go home yearly to us with big balikbayan boxes. We always had the latest toys and gadgets, the latest appliance, which my mom never uses. I struggle completing two balikbayan boxes! How did he do that? I can only imagine.
Sometimes, at the verge of despair, I wanted to just pack my bags and go. The stress can be so much. And when I do that, I confidently say that I have nothing to lose. I can just go, pay for my bond, and go back to the Philippines. I think of the times that maybe my Papa felt the same. But unlike me, he can never just go back home, as he has bigger responsibilities -- house mortgage, school, food etc etc... I go back to the time when I was big enough to understand that he was having a hard time with his boss, I listened to his whines, but witnessed how he sustained, and painstakingly finished the contract. He did it, for us.
I remembered that day I had to bring myself to the hospital here in Doha. Alone. I told myself to be brave because I had no one to look after me. I wondered how many times Papa fell sick and we were not there to take care of him. I bite into my chocolate everyday thinking that this was how Papa got his diabetes, and then stopped my sweet cravings just for a day of two. I think of the time Papa calls us once a week and writes to us consistently while I send a message to Mama once a week as well despite Viber. Shameful.
I am writing this blog at my favorite coffee place. Today is Papa's birthday and I decided to celebrate it. Here in this corner nook I fight the tears as everything seemed to be still unreal. Papa has taught me lessons and it is more meaningful today. He was my example of strength, faith, and of selfless love. I am proud to have gotten from him my simple ways of living, and I hope to be generous like him too.
Papa, while I know that things will never be the same again, I will continue seeing the world through your eyes, ensuring to live the life that you have always wanted me to have. I will go to the places we plan to go together, and the person you have raised me to be. Mama, Candy and I will always bring honor to your name. And while I will change my last name soon to the man I believe is so much like you, I will always be a Camingawan and my kids will be raised like one.
The barista in this coffee shop sings a song which coincidentally captures this moment. Happy birthday Papa. I love you with all my heart.
"Sa bawat pag-ikot ng ating buhay
May oras kailangan na maghiwalay
Puso'y lumaban man walang magagawa
Saan ka, kailan ka, muling mahahagkan
Magkulang man sa atin itong sandali
Alam ko na tayo'y magkikitang muli
Hangga't may umaga pa na haharapin
Ikaw lang ang mamahalin..."
Dear Kuya Barista, please stop singing the song na. Iiyak na ko ng bongga. Bow.
