Sep 5, 2009

One Last Hug

I visited my dad's grave this high noon. I've been wanting to visit him few weeks ago but due to time constraint and health reason I was not able to do so. Before I went there, I visited a church first, offered a prayer and lit a candle. It's one of the things that I wanted to do, too. The church was ran by nuns and the place was very solemn, good for contemplating because it's not situated at the heart of the city. The time was already 11:00 am and my heart was racing when I thought of visiting my dad. My dad's grave was at the opposite side of the church where I was praying. But I badly wanna "see" my dad. I brought the car with me anyway. So, after I said my prayer, I drove the car and hurried to go the 'garden'.

It was very hot when I arrived because of the traffic. I don't even mind the noisy planes arriving and departing. Being with my dad was all that matters. I stood there, feeling alone and very much missing him. I wish he was physically present and feel his one last hug. And without knowing it, I was crying uncontrollably. All the while I thought I was okay. For the past few weeks/days, I've managed to be ok. But I've realized I was just a great pretender. I was not okay at all and I wanted badly for someone to hear me out - that would've been my dad. I know I am also surrounded with people that I could rely on, but I ended up being misinterpreted. A good cry and hearing me out with my woes are probably the things that would ease me out, without someone criticizing me especially when I am this fragile.

Flash back:

My dad was still alive when one time I was feeling down. We talked over the phone (long-distance) and I suddenly cried so hard. I didn't give him my explanation of crying because I didn't know what I was crying about. I think I had a crisis unresolved then. He told me to talk to my mom. I would love, too, but most of the time, we ended up arguing. As I've said, I'm always misinterpreted. I just want somebody to listen and not to look at my flaws. Sure, I'm not perfect and I hated myself for being defensive in the end. Anyway, I ended up drinking the whole grande of beer that night and woke up so groggy and nauseated, to think I still have to go to work that day....

After a few days, my dad was back at home. He didn't ask further what had happened instead he showed me something. He told me to take good care of it. It was an acoustic guitar and until now, it's still with me, still good as new. Too bad I'm not a good guitar player like my brothers but at least I knew how to strum and read the chords. But my dad knew how to lighten me up. I smiled that day...

Flash back more than 8 years ago:

My dad was dying. He used to be huge but at that time, he was so skinny already. He talked to me and then we hugged for a very long time. I could almost feel his bone that I was afraid I might break it. But I love that man so much, he was my dad and not even the smell of his metastasize cancer cells would hinder me from hugging him. It was our one last hug and I cried so much that day because I knew I would be missing him. I've accepted his fate but the thought of not seeing him anymore would really break my heart.


I was reminded of all those things while I poured my heart out. I want his one last hug again. I even wished he would appear in front of me but it didn't happen. I just felt a strong wind while I was sobbing and wiping my eyes and nose. I didn't mind if some people saw me there. I had a deep 'talk' with my dad. When my dad died, I appreciated the beauty of death. However, this noon, I thought about it but told myself I wasn't ready yet. I have a young child and I want her to know her mommy very well. I want her to experience having a parent while growing up. I ended up praying to God and to my dad that, 'Not now', and I giggled afterward. The thought of my daughter told me to go home already. But if I have nothing else to think, guess I would have lasted the whole day staying at my dad's grave.

As I drove home, I was reminded of Luther Vandross' Dance with my Father that has a very meaningful lyric:

"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"

Now, guess I can say I'm okay. A good cry is what I need. I always find solace when I visit his grave but I also promised my dad that I will be smiling the next time I am going to visit him.



Pepper my dear friend, I was teary eyed reading this post. Yes indeed, a good cry is what we need. Perhaps you were "pretending" for awhile, but it's good you were able to name and feel your sadness and find refuge by talking to your dad at the right time. You are fortunate to have known someone who loves you the way your dad does... Only their bodies have died, but their spirit lives on, especially when they are recalled, as in your dad's case, ever so lovingly, fondly. Take care my friend. Love, Talisa


Thanks for your words of comfort, Talisa..always appreciated your comments..
It's nice to have found a friend like you in blogging ;-) Take care, too!