Yesterday was Father’s Day and for the first time in years, I didn’t feel like crying. Maybe it was because I was feeling particularly excited for a trip to the beach with friends, hence the positive vibrations and hyperactivity. Or maybe it was because I have outgrown the long, melodramatic posts that my Facebook friends are so used to seeing during Father’s Day, my dad’s birthday and his death anniversary. Whatever the reason was, the end result was the same, I opted for a fun and playful dedication addressed to both my father and mother.
But I guess the hype I felt wasn’t supposed to last. You know that annoying voice inside your head, the one responsible for the Bieber last song syndromes, the one that comes up with good comebacks for an argument hours after the actual argument, the voice that keeps nagging you to finish your homework, well today, that voice kept telling me I should read that note I wrote for my dad two years ago.
“Just friggin read it, see how you’ll feel.”
“I bet you’ll cry. Hah! You were so dramatic back then.”
“Or maybe you won’t cry. I’m dying to know!”
“What are you doing? Oh you’re looking for it. Alright!”
“There it is! Read it! Read it!”
Here’s the note I wrote:
Let me just start by saying that I don’t enjoy celebrating the third Sunday of June. It sucks that I won’t be able to say “Happy Father’s Day! I love you.” to you, personally, or through a call or a text message. Instead I whisper it to the wind, say it through a prayer and write a note about it on Facebook; as if there’s internet where you are. But if by any chance you happen to pass by my Facebook page, read this ’cause it’s obviously for you.
I didn’t want you to leave and I’m pretty sure you didn’t want to leave us either. But He took you away just the same. I don’t hate Him though; back then, I just didn’t understand why He had to take you. Amongst everyone you left behind, I think I took it the hardest. I couldn’t accept the fact that you were gone.
Only a few weeks before my kindergarten graduation, we were rehearsing my lines for a play and the next thing I knew, I was up on stage performing and you weren’t there to see me. You missed out on a lot of things. I’m all grown up now, although, I’m afraid 5’3 ½ ’’ is the tallest I’m ever gonna get. I went to college, graduated, became a nurse and landed my first ever job. Everything I have accomplished, I worked really hard for. There were times when I felt like giving up, but I didn’t because I knew I had to make you proud. I am blessed to have gotten this far but I would give everything up in a heartbeat just so I could spend even one more day with you.
That’s how much I miss you.
I miss everything about you and everything we used to do. I miss the piggyback rides, the sweet lullabies. I even miss it when you scold me (sorry I tried to run away that one time). I miss the times I went to work with you and ruined your lunchtime poker games by reading the cards out loud. I miss the times we sketched houses on paper and how I was always disappointed that no matter how hard I tried, my drawings never looked anything like yours. Yet you always had encouraging words, so, I never gave up on sketching. I miss our pretend dances, the ones where I would place both my feet on yours then you’d hold my hands and we would dance around the room. It was silly but, I loved it. We danced a lot especially to Jose Mari Chan’s Beautiful Girl. That was your song for mom and me.
It has been fifteen years and I’m used to not having you around. But whether I’m at a mall, a restaurant or even inside a bus, I will always be in tears whenever I see a father and daughter being affectionate to each other. Envy eats me up. I hate father-and-daughter themed movies. And I cry every time I hear Dance with My Father on my playlist.
I wonder what it would be like if I had another day or even an hour with you. I’d get to see your face, hug you tight, dance with you and talk to you. We have some serious catching up to do. I would tell you about mom, Raj and Lance and give you an update on my heart condition and go on and on about the awesome things I get to do as a nurse. I know I would be doing most of the talking and you would just listen and smile at me as I tell you things that perhaps you already know. By the way, is it true that people who go to heaven watch over their loved ones here on Earth? Because if it is, then I guess you wouldn’t have missed out on anything after all.
I would definitely cry if I see you again. I may be all grown up but inside I’m just a little girl who needs her father to wipe her tears away and tell her that everything’s going to be fine. And that you’d always be there no matter what. Okay, that may have sounded a bit cheesy, but who cares, I just know it would stop me from crying. Then I would simply sit beside you, hold your hand and we would wait until it’s time for you to go.
I know I’ll see you again. I have faith in that. And even if all I get is a minute with you, I’d still be grateful. Because maybe the only thing I really want to tell you face to face is that I love you. But in the meantime, I hope this letter will do. I am hoping it reaches you, maybe through the prayers of those who get to read it or maybe a friend of mine, knows a friend who knows a friend, who knows another friend who knows you and would tell you that your daughter wrote you a letter.
I love you and not just because it’s Father’s Day. 🙂
Shei
“Oh shoot! You’re crying? My bad. “
“The fvck did you expect? Of course you’ll cry. You always cry.”
Today, a day after Father’s Day, I am allowing myself to cry, be sad and be vulnerable. I have a free pass to wail and howl like a friggin child because I miss him. I miss him every single day. And most of the time I smile when I remember him, but not today. I’ve decided that I don’t want to run away from the sadness and longing I’m feeling on this day.
Seventeen years ago, I lost one person who meant the world to me. A lot has happened in seventeen years, things I wished my father became a part of. I wrote that note two years ago and the feelings are still true today. You never really forget a person or the love you have for that person. You learn to cope. You learn to accept that they are gone. You pray and hope that heaven exists so that one day you’ll see each other again.
He’s gone and it sucks.
Hopefully tomorrow’s a different story. Maybe he’ll show up in my dream and tease me for being a cry baby. Or maybe he’ll sing our song. Or maybe I’ll go back to remembering him minus the tears.
The Thought Cube 