father’s day today.
my dad died when I was nine. it’s been 26 years now since the last time I celebrated this occassion with my own. it’s been too long, I honestly forgot how genuine it feels to be with a father.
I have had a lot of father figures in my life. but of course they paled in comparison with my tatay. some of them were half-baked imageries while the others waned in charm. sadly, there are a couple who just failed me downright flat. but in all fairness, there are a handful whom I still look up to with utmost respect until today.
although he died young, I had fun with my dad while he was still alive. we used to have afternoon dates where he would carry me on his shoulders, then we’d go to the local store and he’ll buy me a barbeque sandwich and daisy chocolate drink, sometimes it’s sunkist. and we’d eat ice buko. just plain, simple joys. but I am not sure if things would be the same in my life right now if he were still alive today. the shoulda-woulda-couldas, I really believe in that.
contrary to more popular opinions, a young child whose half a parent died is not immune to emotional hurt. true, yes. but perhaps only at the time death happened. I remember I was even quite excited that there were a lot of people in our house, day-in, day-out during the wake. I had a very shallow understanding of death then. but pain actually grows with the child, and it only intensifies with time because there is, and always will be, a void to deal with.
I still miss him once in a while. but hey, life goes on.