In church today, my youngest sister, Ligaya, sat her daughter on the elbow rest of the church pew. And I remembered that my dad used to do that to me when I was about 5 or 6. Or maybe 3 or 4. That’s what got me thinking about what do I remember about my father.
He was the one who taught me how to ride a bike. He used to push me along our unpaved street.
He watched TV a lot. And he used to sing a lot too. I think I got most of my entertainment inclinations from him.
I would see him whispering on the phone all the time. Of course, at the time, I didn’t know nor did I care with whom he was speaking.
A few years after they separated, my mom told me that my dad was picking me up. The only thing I can remember is him crying to me to convince my mom to return to him. Not a very good experience for a teenager, I tell you. It was bordering on traumatic.
I see him on and off through the years but he is so out of my life that I hardly remember anything at all from those encounters.
I did have substantial exposure to him when Ligaya got married in the early 2000s. I drove her to Pasig to ask my father to the pamanhikan. But even that was not a happy experience. I witnessed how weakly his lies were to explain the presence of certain people in his house. If you were there you'd find the explanations so laughable, you might expect Michael V suddenly appearing and announcing, "Huli Ka!"
And then I saw him next at the wedding. That episode also had moments that I can only describe at sad. How will you react seeing this shadow of a man try to fit into a group of people who obviously spent their entire lives together? He was a stranger.
Early this year, he got majorly sick, and I had the most exposure to him. Some friends would know how much this affected me.
It’s Father’s Day today. I wonder if any of my sisters even thought of him. I wish I can feel sorry for him or us but I don’t. We had a good life not because of him but despite his absence in our lives.
I know this is not the common sentiment. And I already expect that most people will not understand, judge me, and even point out to me that without him, I will not be here. That I should be grateful if only for that. But to me, Fatherhood is more than just a sperm contribution. He made his bed when he chose his women over his family.
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Postscript
My father died last July 16. Interestingly enough, it's also my parents' 50th anniversary. We laid him to rest on July 19.
Today, July 20, my mom, my sisters and i have settled on a very important matter which he left behind for people to deal with. I am glad that we are able to find a solution that I can live with. I thank God for that. Now, we just need to see if the offer will be accepted.
2 comments:
sad :-(
isn't it?
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