Yesterday, I attended a farewell party dinner for a very good friend and comrade. It was a sad event just as any farewell would be. I was very affected with my friend’s decision to leave the organization we became part for more than half a year where we shared so many good memories. I never thought I’d be too affected by goodbyes from friends but this one is different, my friend is such a beautiful person and I’m really sad he would be gone from my life.
During the dinner, he talked about his father. His dad died when we were in a training in Iloilo. We’re supposed to fly together the day after the training but because of the unfortunate event, he had to stay behind. He was usually a positive and jolly fellow. Even in the midst of commotion where we are all panicky, confused or tired, he’s usually calm and would bring everyone together. That time when he was talking about his father, he was different. He was sad and almost teary-eyed. He opened his heart to us and we learned how sad he was of his going. He’s going back to his hometown to be with his mother, to help her cope with sadness from the loss.
All those time, I was trying not to cry. I suddenly remembered my father who passed away about five years ago. Yes, it was a long time ago but it still hurts to think about him. I still miss him badly. I love him very much but sadly, he went without me showing him how much I truly love him.
All my life, I wanted him to be proud of me, just like my friend’s story. We both wanted to be successful in life to give pride to our fathers. Now that they’re gone, we both feel there’s no point for our accomplishments. He’s single, I am a mother. I have found my reasons to still dream — my son.
Somehow though, I hope my tatay is still with us, now that I am capable of providing him some life comfort. My father was a man of dignity and class I would say. That’s despite the fact that he was a carpenter and and we were poor. He’s a tall and good-looking man and when he speaks, people listen. No one ever questioned his principles and values, he respected him even after he died.
It puts me a smile on my face to think what I hope he would look like today if he’s still alive and I can buy him some of the things he used to like. My father do not drink alcoholic beverages but he likes cigars. I’d love to buy him some pockets of discount cigars which would make him look like a “Don” when he smoke them. I would also buy him a handsome bicycle because he love biking and he used to take me for a ride on his bike when I was young. His memories are still too vivid it hurts.
To both of you, my Tatay and my friend’s Pop, we miss you. God bless your soul.
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