8 months. Eight long months. I have been quiet for far too long. Too long and had I not kept silent, I could have uttered words that would have triggered someone else's pride. But I didn't.
Let's make it less personal this time.
I lost my father 8 months ago. His loss was when all our nightmares started. Should I tell you a story? A story that would feel like you are seating in front your television watching a typical Filipino teleserye? Wherein an anak-sa-labas-is-fighting-for-her/his-rights kind of story?
I am an illegitimate child, but I never felt like I was one. Daddy was with me since I was born. He never left, not even once. Legitimate or illegitimate, you are still your father's child. It's just a status. It's just a title. I had this realization since I was a child. I was never angry for having an older brother/sister from another family. Though I know I didn't have the right to, it just didn't matter to me that I had other siblings. I was brought up by my parents to never, ever be mad at things I did not do.
I was in 3rd grade when I learned that we were not his "original family", but I was not hurt. Why? Because he was there; he was living with us. After a few years, I have learned that we were not even his 2nd family, but the 3rd. They were already giving me hints. They would ask me if I wanted to have an older brother, around 2 or 3 years older than me. I surprised them more than they surprised me. I told them I would love to meet him. Instead of being furious, I was excited. Excited to finally have a sibling. Since then, I had a Kuya. A kuya that will be forever a brother to me. Someone who is beside me through whatever in life would bring us.
Years passed and our daddy got sick. We thought that it was because of old age. We found out that he had pancreatic cancer and that it was already all over his lungs and liver.
Daddy was already confined in a hospital. My mom and I, we shared shifts to accompany him. It was around 8 in the evening, I was driving home from a supplier when my mom called me.
Ma: Monica, tinest si daddy mo.
Me: Saan?
Ma: Wag ka mabibigla. May nakitang mga bukol sa lungs niya.
Me: Ha?
By that time, I was shaking real hard; so hard that I could not hold tight the stirring wheel of my car. I was crying so hard. We hear cancer here and there, but it's different when it has affected people you love. Ang sakit pala na marinig na may cancer yung mahal mo sa buhay. It hurts even more when they give your dad's life a "deadline" or what we call taning.
A day after, ken and I were the ones who accompanied my dad at the hospital. I REALLY TRIED HARD TO BE BUBBLY. But I guess my dad already knows. I solemnly asked my dad to have a biopsy but he declined. He said "Baka yang biopsy ang ikamatay ko".
After days at the hospital, he actually got stronger. We would walk outside the room around the hospital while I was holding his dextrose. He would even joke, "pwede na ako umuwi. Ang lakas lakas ko na o. Tingnan mo Monica, ang bilis ko na maglakad."
That was when I realized, my dad is the most optimistic one in the family. We went home after a month of hospitalization.
The first family then contacted my dad that they wanted to be with him and take care of him. We, as a FAMILY, never had a second thought of giving them a chance to have our daddy. But things got worst, when they got my dad. Communication got hard.
I remember that I was not able to talk to my dad for 2 weeks. Then when I finally I had the chance, I cried hard when he said my name "Monica..kamusta kayo ni Mama". I fucking cried hard. I thought I was never gonna be able to talk to him again.
Days and weeks passed, and we thought he was getting better. He visited us at home, without us knowing that it would be the last time. Each time, I was fearing that it was his last day.
I was always imagining him in his usual outfit: polo shirt, black slacks, and a leather shoes. Then he came, he was wearing what I have imagined, a checkered black & white polo shirt, slacks, and leather shoes. He could barely walk without assistance. I hugged him so tight, so tight I was crying and trembling at the same time. He then gathered all our employees giving instructions and will regarding our family business. After the meeting, he went to our house. He did not go inside, he was just at the door, bowed his head, and prayed. We all started crying. Thinking of it now, it still hurts. It still hurts that it was the last time. I should have asked him to stay a little longer.
Another week had passed, we received news that he was back again at the hospital. His health worsened.
We visited him at the ICU and I was at shocked when I saw Daddy. His eyes were closed, breathing through the tube/life support. No words. I cried hard. Am I too late? Was there a way I would have prevented this? He was not responding. He was unconscious but I still talked to him. I kept on repeating a hundred times, "Daddy, uwi ka na. I love you, Daddy. Uwi ka na,Daddy. Please. Uwi na tayo".
2 days later, I visited again. I played him a song Martha recorded for him. "A whole new world". I was so hurt and devastated. Wishing he could still hear Martha's voice.
A day after I visited and played Martha's song, Daddy passed away. I knew he was waiting for Martha. She is his favorite.
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I would like to open up more and to share details regarding his passing and you know, the family drama, but I can't.
I never had a chance to attend his burial, but was able to visit his wake. Once. People know me as a fighter; somebody who doesn't back down that easily. I would always fight to win. There were a lot of things I could have fought for during this peril time, but I knew my dad would not want that. I knew that he wanted to rest in peace so for the first time in my life, I let my pride down. I just let go.
I guess being an illegitimate child will always have its setbacks.
I miss you, Daddy. I miss your voice, your laugh - everything! I will always be your little girl. Wish you were there on my wedding day. I know you love, Ken. You called him "Anak". I love you!
