Dance With the Father

Called Home

"I realized that we will never know when we will be called home. We can never be prepared for it. Therefore one's life must always be lived to the fullest."

May be I was too coward to ask the doctors how long my father will be living. None of us had the guts to ask if he will still recover, but obviously, he was not getting any better.

I thought everything was going well because he also had a checkup scheduled on the 13th of January. It was Planetshakers Conference that I should be attending that time, but family must come first. I should have seen the signs―him wearing diapers; him not being able to ride the public transportation anymore. I said to my mom I will ask his doctors, but failed to. I completely missed the signs. His back continued to hurt. His kidneys and liver were not okay. It clearly weren't. How could I miss that?

On January 21, 2018, I lost my phone. Someone stole my phone from my bag while I was buying a cake for a friend. That phone is very important to me since all my contacts and memories are in that phone. It was also the first brand new phone I bought for myself. But I did try my best not to worry about it. I let it pass which is quite weird. I didn't know why myself. I knew I should be crying over it, but I was not. I informed my parents that I lost it and will soon buy the cheapest phone I can buy at the moment. After buying a 600-peso phone, my father said that I can use the phone he got from my uncle. My father was not really "techy" so he thought of giving me the phone. And so, I filed for a leave and came home on the 22nd of January, Monday for the phone. The original plan was I will go back to Manila on the same day, but my mom said that I should stay. My father didn't disagree with Mom. Usually, my father hates me missing work, so it was peculiar that he said I should stay for the night and just go to work the following day. Maybe he wanted to spend more time with me. He was not already well, but I was too dense to sense it. For me, he was okay; simply because he can eat, stand, and walk on his own.

A week after, my mom asked me when can I visit Papa. At first, I was not receptive of the reasons why my mom wanted me to come home. She said Papa was not feeling well. But she didn't really describe how serious it was―not until I planned to surprise him and Mama. I didn't tell my mom that I will be coming over; that I already asked permission from my boss. I called her up to check on them. Finally, my mother said "Hindi ka ba talaga makakauwi? Baka di na magtagal papa mo." This made me cry. My mom was crying. I said, I plan to visit on the 31st of January.

I was nervous on my way home. I didn't expect to see my father so weak. When I saw him, I ran toward him, hugged him, and repeatedly said "Mahal kita Papa." Seeing him in that situation broke my heart. I am not used to seeing Papa that way. I tried my best to collect myself afterward. I did my very best to help Mama take care of Papa. My mom would do some errands and I will be left alone with Papa. I took him to the toilet and washed him. I helped him get dressed. I helped him walk. Both my mom and I tried to be strong in front of Papa. I'd read him the Bible readings for the day, but most of the time, he was asleep.

The following day, I needed to go to Nueva Ecija to process his Philhealth. I needed to register him so we can avail the senior citizen benefits. During these times, all I wanted to do was save Papa.

Papa said that he would have his checkup on Monday, but I insisted that we go to the hospital already. We were preparing Papa. He was already too weak, but he managed to walk with assistance. My uncle was in one side of Papa, while I was on the other. It seems like my father can't see anymore. His gaze was so far, but I still managed to put a strong face. I am an emotional person. I cry easily. But that time, I had to be strong for him.

My father was admitted at the hospital. He was even worried of the expenses. He kept asking how much was the room we were getting him. Being at the hospital most likely gave him a little bit of comfort.

I was in touch with my aunt and cousins. When I am outside the room, that's the time when I cry myself out. On Friday of February 2, we said that his brothers and sister would see him the next day. Then he said, "Tamang-tama, makakapagbilin na ako." I was holding back my tears. I was at his back and he knew right away that I was crying silently.

February 3, my father was eager to see his siblings. He kept asking if what time will they be coming over until they finally arrived. I knew there were so many different emotions inside the room. Most of our relatives were shocked to see my father very weak. They saw my father doing okay during Christmas, but seeing him weak at that moment gave them the shocked of the year. I saw my aunts and uncles cry. They stayed for a few hours. And when it was time for them to go home, I went with them. I planned to purchase the medicine for my father. I planned to return Sunday morning together with my uncle and aunt who plans to visit Papa. As we were on our way, my uncle called my other uncle who was driving that time. He handed me his phone. It was my mom―telling me that Papa is gone; that he already passed away. It shattered my heart in pieces. Before I left, I asked him to wait for me. I kissed him on his forehead and told him I will be coming back with his medicine. But no; he already left and he didn't wait for me. I regret my decision of leaving his side in his last moments. I should have been there beside him. I know that he would prefer for me to not see him suffering, but I still wished I was there to at least bid him goodbye.

In William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, "Parting is such a sweet sorrow." It is indeed a sweet sorrow―a death of a loved one brings excruciating pain and sorrow. But behind the pain, there is still joy to it as our loved ones finally come home to our real home.

I was traveling back to the hospital when my mom informed me that Papa has passed away. I really don't know what to say or feel when my mom told me the news. I believe I was in denial. But of course, after crying for a few minutes, I needed to put myself together as I will be the one to arrange my father's wake. There was no time for me to cry because I needed to call the memorial plan provider. The moment I went inside his room, I hugged my father's corpse. I didn't care if he was dead. I just wanted to hug him. I thought maybe it was all just a joke. He loves to joke around. May be he will wake up. But no, he was gone. I was just pulled away by my aunt from him because they have this superstitious belief that tears should not fall on the corpse.

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." - Romans 8:38-39