Looking through my Papa's eyes

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.

And it all came back to me.

It's amazing how songs can bring back memories and emotions. Today at work, I (almost) watched a student sing "I don't want to miss a thing" by Aerosmith. Upon finding about her song choice I worried that I might lose it.

And I did.

Blame it to that movie Armageddon. That tear jerker flick never fails to make me cry 'til now. That same song, is the song my sister and I sang for my Papa's eulogy. At that time, we felt the lyrics were made for us and captured our feelings for our dad. Today, I relived the pain, the love and the journey. It felt so real and fresh as if it just happened yesterday.

And so the loser that I am now, ran away from the music and found myself writing my gut out.

In a few months time I will become a wife. Since my fiance is a musician, I requested my bridal walk to be the same song. It is my way to honor my dad, who will never see me wear that off white dress. I will never hear him complain about how long it takes for women to dress up. I will never hear him bully my mom about her make up. Or go to me and say that I'm like a "bella" with my red lipstick. I will never get a chance to see his nod of approval or his shy smile that always says, "I'm proud of you Ate." I will never get a chance to have my Papa walk me down the aisle.

Yes, he may be watching over me and smiling that day. But it is never the same. Never the same.

On the day of the wedding, I pray for the strength to hold it together.Ironic how my big day can be the happiest and well, 2nd to saddest, day of my life.

I pray for the day when the tears will stop flowing when I hear that song. For now, let me just take my time to mourn.

Join me shall you?

Because it's All Soul's Day

I have a fear on death. One of my own (apparently called Tanathophobia). I dreamt about my death a lot of times. In my dreams I was being buried and I could even feel myself rotting. Horrible. And then I fear losing people through death as well. When my father died last year, the concept of death became more real. People know for sure that there is no way to escape death, but few people really have a clear grasp of it. Today's celebration of All Soul's Day is fitting. I have reasons to be sentimental.

"Death is the only destination we all share." - Steve Jobs

Steve Jobs once said, "Death is the only destination we all share." How true. And unless one has a close encounter with death, one can never really relate to how it really is. No words can comfort a broken heart. No flowers can replace the empty void left by that person. And even if they say time heals all wounds, it does not (at least for me). It could be that I am just impatient, as always.

When I think about it, there is more to death that I fear. It is a web of my insecurities, my vulnerabilities: the fear of being left behind, fear of being lost somewhere, fear of uncertainty, fear of being forgotten.

I can go on about my premature questions on heaven, hell and the in betweens, or even my thoughts on where our ultimate destination would be after this short stint on earth. But since I developed a relationship with Christ, I felt somehow that all of these are philosophical let alone insignificant. All I know now is that, since I accepted Christ in my life and has convicted myself to be with Him, I have never felt alone. When I lost Papa, it was Him who sustained me and my family. And even though I still fear dying, I strive to live a life that is pleasing to Him, so that I can join Him in the after life. Strive is the operative word. Pakahirap naman talaga kasing panindigan ang desisyong mabuhay para kay Kristo. Tall order. Extra challenge.

To talk about life as we commemorate the dead might be ironic. But it is in death that I have felt the urge to live my life fully according to how He wills it to be. By being reminded that my stay here is timed, (no matter how scary it is) I am challenged to seize every moment righteously. And in times that I fail to do so, I pray that I get to wake up another day to make amends.

Life and death offers so much of lessons despite the dichotomies. In the end, I hope to still have the best both worlds can offer.

Allow me to share this song from Jeremy Camp titled "There will be a day." May this inspire us to live life to fullest (despite of...) so we can look forward to the life that awaits after.

 

"There will be a day with no more tears, no more pain, and no more fears

There will be a day when the burdens of this place, will be no more, we'll see Jesus face to face

But until that day, we'll hold on to You always." - Jeremy Camp

 

PS. I hope we took the time today to say a short prayer for the souls of our deceased loved ones. :)