Day 7 to Thirty: In the Name of the Father

1. Woke up crying to another extendedly disturbing dream. This time, it wasn’t about him so there was no need to forget about it and go back to sleep. Had another dream about Papa and his failing health. Dreamt he was close to dying. He was under dialysis, or some treatment that needed him to be attached to a machine. I felt so much pity for the pain he was in. A fleeting thought of turning off the machine to end his suffering crossed my mind, and I immediately felt shame for thinking of sucha thing then pain for realizing I’ll have no more father if I do that.

Pockets of blood were building up just right beneath his dry and parched skin and the slightest touch makes the skin rupture and the blood squirt forcefully out. Mama didn’t know how to stop it. Somebody was trying to stop the bleeding by putting a towel (or was that a canister) to the spots that have ruptured already. I tried to help but when I touched Papa, I made it worse and brown blood squirted on my fingers and nails like a mini fire hydrant. Mama handed me a large empty can of Sustagen chocolate to put against the wounds. I tried to use it but gave up. I felt to helpless.

I knew this day would come when I would eventually have to say goodbye to him, but I wasn’t ready. I don’t think I ever will be. There were so many things I needed to tell him before he goes.

In my mind, I hoped everybody would leave first so I can talk to him alone. I’m not good expressing how I truly feel in front of other people, even if they are family. Even if I didn’t say anything, I’m glad they all left first to give me time with him. I held his hand. I tried to grasp it tight, but I couldn’t find the strength to. It didn’t feel like I had any right to hold his hand now, when I hardly ever did growing up. Anguish and guilt and remorse washed over me. I wanted him to know just how much I love him… just how much I am thankful he brought me up as his daughter… just how much I sincerely appreciate everything he did for me all these years — all the money he spent just to give me a good life so I wouldn’t want for anything… just how grateful I am for his over-protectiveness of me, even if it didn’t allow me to live a normal childhood, just so no one would harm me. I wanted him to understand just by holding his hand why I have hardly been unable to express all this love for him over the years  — that I think it and feel it, but I just don’t show it. I desperately wanted him to understand that I love him.

I tried to speak and make him know how I really felt. I wasn’t able to utter a single word. I couldn’t get anything out of my mouth even until my last moments with him.

I woke up and burst crying, regretting how incapable I am of expressing the truth. The dearest man in my life is at his death bed and the only thing that could send him off peacefully was knowing his efforts in raising me were not in vain, yet I’m unable to do it.

I was too distraught to go back to sleep even if I have just been in bed for six hours. I decided to get up, but I knew it was going to be another bad day.

2. Talked to my Butler when I got downstairs. He called me up to check on how I was feeling. I didn’t feel like telling him all about another bad dream, not because I didn’t want him to hear about it, but because I didn’t want to think about it further. My day didn’t start off right as it is.

3. Was supposed to meet my Butler online but after we talked on the phone, I didn’t get up from lying on the couch and next thing I knew, it’s almost 10PM. I didn’t fall asleep. Time simply has a way of flying by sometimes… like this whole year. I checked to see if he was online but saw he was no longer on FB. Since I didn’t feel like doing anything much on FB, I decided to finally compose this post even if it was going to be hard having to remember how my day began.

4. Talked with Butler when he got home. He was super sweet to want to travel with me even if he’s in quite a bind right now. I sincerely felt that he really wanted to and that he felt bad that expenses were just piling up towards December. We next go to talk about my nasty dream then moved on to another nastier, but more true-to-life topic which is my family’s financial setbacks. It’s something I didn’t wish to talk about since it rather unpleasant but he, the gallant knight in shining armor he is, kept offering to help out with this and that… and of course, everything I turned down. It’s hard enough talking about the topic, thus making it real, and much harder to hear somebody offer financial help. That’s just too… real and depressing… like an accident victim waking up one morning then suddenly remembering he no longer has the ability to walk.

Just much later in our conversation did I realize tears kept streaming down my cheeks. I wouldn’t have realized it (or crying has become too second-nature to me already) if my nostrils didn’t clog up and I didn’t have difficulty breathing. Long after we put down the phone and I was left playing Super Jewel Quest, I was more surprised to find out the the tears haven’t stopped. My eyes were like broken faucets! Like, WTF?! Why the hell am I still crying?! I understand if I did while we were talking about my situation… but I was just playing that crappy game on my phone! Ah, well maybe that was the reason…

5. Got a surprising, yet nice chat with my cousin who I hardly know, talk to, or grew up with. Our grandmothers were sisters so that makes us second cousins (but if we’re going to take into consideration that my grandmother adopted me to become her daughter, my second cousin is now my nephew… but that’s just all complicated…). Aaaanyway, his msg window just suddenly popped up in FB with the words “hi kaz musta?” We got to talking about him being a seaman, his job, our families… pretty much the longest talk we ever had in our lifetime.

Growing up, we just saw each other during the very seldom family gatherings such as visiting godparents during Christmas to “collect,” and during wakes and funerals. He chided me on my still-single status, especially that I’m about to turn thirty. He’s turning 34 with an almost 4-year old kid and pretty wife. “Mahirap maghabol” is what he said. I wonder how true all these warnings of the “wise and old” will be to me 20 years from now. Kinda freaked me out a little though when he started saying I was pretty and all that, and was so insistent to chat via cam and he didn’t want to believe I didn’t have one. @_@

6. Now going to sleep. Eyes are heavy from all the crying earlier and cousin seems to have gotten disconnected. I shall do laundry tomorrow. Hopefully I could wake up around 8AM.

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  • An attempt to remember.

  • The author and editor would like to thank the visitors of this site for dropping by and taking time to go through the articles.

    These are simply but ramblings of one woman struggling to retain as much youth in a fast-aging world. With her deteriorating senses and memory, this is her way holding on to as much as she can remember.

    The tone of the blog will most-likely change once she shifts to another phase in life. As of the moment, she claims to be at peace while in hibernation.

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