Of Love, Pains and Heartaches…

by: Mirriam Bless F. Detera


Every time I came across old pictures, unused things in the dusty shelf, broken equipments or materials, unvisited graveyards, unread books and other things that has eventually been forgotten, I never failed to pause and ask myself, Why? With little less importance, those things that once have been part of the present have now become a distant memory of the past.

I could never forget the time that I rode at his bicycle, the first time we played chess together, the time when he would wait for me to wake up because he is going to keep the bed, the time when we would go to my grandmother’s house and play in her old house, the time when he would pamper me with toys he got from a Jolly Kiddie Meal, and who could never forget his first whip because I went overboard with myself. Those are but just a few things I recall whenever the word “FATHER” would flash into my conscious mind. That world is not anymore present physically in our lives but I know he’s present spiritually and mentally.

I was not used to the idea of visiting him in the hospital, yes, he was confined several times because of heart failure. I was not used to it though; I went at the District Hospital one afternoon after my class excitedly showing him my project that has been given a high grade, and who would have thought that it was the last project that he would see. I went there happily and holding on to the fact that he would soon be discharged in the morning, but I was wrong.

The following morning, he and mama never came home; instead, he was transferred to a private hospital in the city for further treatments. I was worry free and still holding on to the fact that he and mama would come home soon and I could visit them in the hospital, but I was wrong again. Later that night, I was becoming uneasy; my cousins who were there with me told me to just relax and assured me that everything would be alright. Then, my phone rang, it was mama, I instantly trembled the moment I heard her voice, on the other line, I could hear her weeping, and slowly breaking the news about papa. They told me that they were coming home, after she brings papa to the mortuary…. The moment she got off the phone with me, I didn’t know what to do, and instantly, tears came flowing in my eyes lots of them. Suddenly, in my mind, it’s as if I am taken back to the past, memories came flooding in, both happy and sad.

Papa came home the following day, he came in his special barong tagalong and he was indeed very decent, he came home in a casket. As I look at him, I can’t help but weep. It’s a waste that he would not see me get high grades in my projects, and would not be able to accompany me as I get my diploma during my high school graduation. It was indeed the saddest December me and mama had. During the wake, I would always stay by his side, and say “I Love You Papa”, powerful words that I never mentioned when he could still hear and respond to it.

We could never do things together now like what we used to before, most of all, I wouldn’t have the chance, personally to say to him how much I love him and how much I cared for him. I regret those idle times that I had with him because I was afraid and shy to tell him what I feel, now, I cannot anymore do that. I regret those times that we could spend as bonding moments.

Papa is now up there. Every time I remember him, regrets always linger, but come to think of it, I have an angel to guide me and to remind me that I should never have regrets because I have my whole life here on earth to thank him  and say “I Love You Papa” in my silent prayers.#