Today, we buried my father. I should be sad but I feel nothing. Maybe the fact that he’s dead hasn’t sunk in yet. Or it could be the fact that I don’t really know my father. The words “When you don’t feel anything, it just means that you don’t care anymore.” came to mind. Maybe that’s it.
During the wake, I felt like a celebrity. I mean I didn’t know anyone there but they knew who I was. Even though I’d ask who they were and they’d say their name, I would still have a lot of questions for them like how are they related to my dad? how did you know who I was? have we met before?
What do I know about my dad? My siblings would say that he was a strict disciplinarian. He cheated on my mom with someone she knew. My mom kicked him out of the house and that was when I was about 2 years old. He would visit during birthdays or Christmas to give cards with a 500-peso bill tucked inside the the envelope and sometimes he would bring along the 2 kids he had with his mistress. He was a taxi driver but before that he worked in an office but I’m not sure exactly what he did. As he got older, he got sick and he got worse. From diabetes to stroke. They said he even had Alzheimer’s disease which explains the time we visited him and he couldn’t recognize us or it could just be because he had a stroke so his memory was affected and they could just be exaggerating. Now that he’s with Him, he wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. He has paid his dues.
Salamat, Papa. Di ako mabubuhay sa mundong ito kung di dahil sayo.