Dear Tatay (Dad), I realized I've never written you a letter

If I could get another chance, Another walk, Another dance with him

I'd play a song that would never ever end, How I'd love love love, To dance with my father again

I just realized that I've never really written you a letter. Except the "take care" notes that I've posted all over our house's back door and at the back of you bedroom. I swear I'm writing this letter the night before you died, I thought of reading it out loud when it's my turn to look after you. But then, you were never the confrontational/open forum type. Maybe that's why you left before I even had the chance to read my letter to you.

Father's day is coming up on Sunday and I browsed my planner last year. We didn't do anything special on your day. I think you and Mom are at grandma's. I was out having coffee with Jihan. Who would've thought that we'd never have a Father's day physically together again?

You know, when you were on your deathbed, even when you were still alive, it took me one whole month before I could enter the master's bedroom. I can't seem to get the picture of you throwing up in the toilet bowl out of my head the last time you were at home. I didn't know it was that serious but I am thankful that I was given a chance to drive for you one last time.

You see, I know and I am completely aware that I am not a Daddy's girl. God knows I wanted to be one and how I long for an older brother. Maybe that's the reason that I have solid male friends that I easily get along with. It was like a frustration. But I think we were like Bella from Twilight and you're Charlie. You don't hover. We co-exist peacefully when we're alone in Jubileeville and we share that comfortable silence. We don't talk to each other that much. But now, you're gone, I hate to admit that I do get your point now.

Remember when I was in first grade? You saw me reading the local "Funny" comics. You hated that I read comic books so you threw it all away. If you have not done that, I wouldn't have grown interest to indulge myself in books, eventually became a writer which turned out to be my passion.

Remember when I first got my camera? I was clicking here and there emptying out films. Mom scolded me how it costs money to have it developed. So when I had my last film developed, I didn't have money to pay for it. It was on standby at the photo studio shop for the longest time, then I found out you paid for my developed photos and took it home. Remember when I was smiling so hard in front of the camera that you ordered me to relax my muscles so I can have a natural smile? That's how I learned how to get my trademark smile.

I did not understand why you have to buy 4 life vests the first time. It turned out that you wanted us to have our own life vests when we first went to Puerto Galera.

I don't understand why you seem to be paranoid all the time about locking doors, electricity, security and safety. It turned out that it was for my own good because I've lived alone in Manila for 10 years and I never got mugged face-to-face. If I lost something like a wallet or a phone, it was something out of my area of responsibility and not a product of my own carelessness. If you hadn't trained us to be boy-scout alert like that, then we wouldn't be this "aware".

Remember when you were demonstrating safety precautions when going home alone at our house. You demonstrated how to take the keys and put it to safety, you demonstrated how not to get out of the car first. I was seated at the back seat and I keep rolling my eyes, now I am ransacking my brain out trying to remember. I wish I had listened more.

Remember when I first brought home a guy I was dating back in college? You did not like him but you couldn't tell it to me. Mom had to translate your disapproval for me. You were right, Dad. He was such an ass. I don't know how you can tell from a far that he is a jerk, it took me a few more months to finally figure it out. The next one that I brought home, you seem to feel okay with him. Maybe because you know I can swallow him up in one big gulp. But then, after we broke up, I never brought any guy home again, until I am dead serious about him.

Remember when we were talking about my Makati Senior Citizens Trip for my Graduate School Class? I asked for your opinion and have written my final paper taking off from your point of view. I got a really good grade in that class Tatay. Remember I showed you that white little slip with my grades when you were in ICU? I am now working on my thesis and will graduate like what I promised you, because I want to make you and Inay proud.

I'm in touch with my reality that you're gone, but sometimes it just feels like you only moved abroad. Maybe that's our coping mechanism, and maybe because even when you're gone, I can still feel you around. Sometimes, I even forget that you're gone. When I see the car in the drive way, I sometimes forget that it was me who drove the car and parked it that way.

I miss having drifted off to sleep with the lights on in my room, because I know at 530 in the morning, you open the door of my room and turn off the lights. You were saying that your electricity bill went up since I moved back home, because I fall asleep with the TV on, and sometimes while reading a book. But Tatay, I wake up a lot early now, with no qualms. I'm the one who's feeding the dogs now and they know your magic stick. One point from that wand they already know that they have to behave.

I hope you don't mind Tatay, but I've taken over the bathroom. This morning I saw the several bottles of your anti-hypertensive medicines that I've seen for years. Lately, I'm scared that I might be needing one soon. I've developed this insane paranoia, maybe it's psychosomatic, maybe it's trauma. The only thing that relaxes me is by praying.

I never had the chance to say I'm sorry. I wanted to, during the last week, but the doctor said that there's a huge chance that your hearing has already been impaired. So during lunch break, I frequented buying candles to light up a candle for you at St. Therese, sometimes in San Antonio church. I cannot really verbalize what I want and what I am praying for but God knows the desires of my heart.

We were never the vocal type of saying our "I love you's" but I'm glad I was able to say mine when you were still conscious. I hope, even I didn't get the chance to read this letter to you, you would know how we feel. You know, Inay (Mom) still hasn't returned from work yet. She never left your side since Day one, from the moment you were admitted in the emergency room, from the time that your oxygen went down in the ICU, when you were transferred to Manila, then back to Infirmary, at home, at the chapel and finally at the memorial park, she never left your side.

Ten years ago

...

I know she misses you and your driving because she can no longer fall asleep whether seated at the passenger or backseat when I'm driving. It was like she's hanging on to dear life when I drive because I know it's only you that she trust when travelling. You were never the kind who likes to use the car's horn so I somehow adopted the practice. The car has a few scratches from my driving now, Tatay, but I hope you won't get mad. Inay and I often get into petty arguments about my driving because she's being a backseat driver when she doesn't know how to drive. I know she misses seeing you behind the steering wheel, so I promise I will be more patient with her because I remember how you get mad at me when you see me arguing with her that she'd end up calming both of us down.

Thank you so much Tatay, for the lessons. Until now, I am still learning from you. Thank you for still being around. I know you're watching over us. I know it must have been really scary for you to go through that medical condition. I hope you don't mind that I have taken pictures since day one, because I want to look back at this experience. I remember when you were in a coma, when I feel so down like I wanted to just fall right into depression, I am reminded that if you, who is on a GCS coma state of 3, the lowest coma scale meter, is still breathing and fighting for your life, then why  can't I, who can walk around normally and breathe on my own. You've always been a fighter, that's why you were already a miracle on your own. Most people who went through your condition only lasted for less than 24 hours, the most is a week, but you were able to pull through for 2 months and a few days. You left when you felt that we have already adjusted and can make it on our own. You left before school starts so that your friends can still see and visit you and so that I can move on with my studies because I got thrown off my study mode the day you got sick.

We love you Tatay. Thank you for putting up a good fight. I know you did it for us.

P.S.
Speaking of steering wheel, I hope you don't mind that our car's becoming girlier and girlier because I bought a steering wheel cover but with tweety bird design in exchange for the malfunctioning triple A batteries for your oxymeter. Aprille and I were going after the hot pink steering wheel design but we couldn't find one at HandyMan store.