10-Day Blog Challenge: Day 10


Which goes… ONE confession.

I do not love my father. I also do not hate him. For me, he is a stranger. But he wasn’t always a stranger.  Though I didn’t grow up with him around ALL THE TIME, he WAS (emphasis on it being the PAST) my childhood hero. He used to work overseas (apparently, right now he lives in Kuwait) and out of the 12 months in a year, he was home for 2. I always looked forward to those 2 months. Communication was hard during those years–early 80’s to the late 90’s. There was no Skype or Viber. If you wanted to communicate–you wrote and you send it via the post office (which takes a few weeks).

I get it. Some marriages fail (mine certainly did). But does that mean that if your marriage goes down the drain, your WHOLE family fails too? When my father left my mom–he left US (his kids) as well. There was no talk of “This is not working, we need to part ways” with my mom. And there was no talk about how they were separating and we should not worry because we still had both parents–though separated. He just left.

He was my hero for the first 16 years of my life and I am grateful for his support during those years (thank you, in case you are reading this). I saw him last when I was 16–a freshman in college. After that, I found out WHO HE TRULY WAS (I don’t know about now, but I don’t give a shit). There was anger. Lots of it. But after several years (right now I’m 31 years old), the anger disappeared and there was just indifference.

Have I forgiven him for leaving us? Yes. Will I accept him back in my life (hypothetical question!)? Why? He made his choice by marrying his mistress (by using a fake death certificate–yup! He killed my mom–in paper). He lived with that choice for several years. For sure he will live with that choice until he dies. But I do wish him the best in life–same wish I would say to any other person.

So there–my confession. I neither love nor hate my father (I can’t call him Dad–not anymore).

Do you think I’m too mean? That was not my intention–truly. This was a conversation I had with my sister a few months back–about us being indifferent. Somehow, I am relieved that I am no longer angry.

TANDANDAAAAAAN! Done with the 10-Day Blog Challenge!!! Fuck! That was like the longest 10 (12) days of my blogging life! Not that I didn’t want to blog. It’s just the questions for some days were just ____!

By December 1, I start with the 30-Day Blog Challenge (or was it 31?).

A letter to my father (January 2011)

***So this is the flip part of what I published earlier.***

Dear Dad,

If this was just like the letters I wrote to you as a kid, I would have wished you a “happy new year” in bold letters before saying anything else. But with everything you’ve done and not done, it kinda changes things.

On any regular day, I don’t think about you. I don’t think about you because I don’t remember you. Not because I don’t want to, but because there’s no reason to.

But today, I had to. Truly, technology has a way of bridging people—even those who don’t want to be bridged. At one point, Facebook recommended you as a ‘friend’ because you might be someone I know. I had a good laugh at it. It recommended you because we had mutual friends. Why wouldn’t we have mutual friends? I mean, your relatives happen to be my relatives too.

I wish my relationship with you is as simple as Facebook. But it’s not. It hasn’t been simple for more than 12 years. June 1999. That was the last time I saw you. That’s something I would never forget. I guess for me, you stopped being my father then.

A lot of things unraveled on their own. I realized that there were a lot of things that I didn’t know about you at all. Mom was pretty good at keeping things from me. But at one point, she realized that I was no longer a kid and I should stop being a daddy’s little girl.

Mom… How she loved you. Not loved. How she loves you. Until now. I would want to tell her that you don’t deserve her love at all. Someone as selfish as you. You don’t deserve her unconditional love. Unconditional. Do you know what that means? It means that despite everything that you’ve done to her, she loves you still. EVERYTHING.

Mom… Do you still remember her? You married her nearly 50 years ago. And you left her for dead when you magically secured a death certificate so you could marry your woman. Amazing, right?

I would like to think that I don’t hate you. I would want to say that I am unaffected. But those would be untrue. Though I rarely think about you, it makes my chest hurt everytime I do. But it hurts the most when I think about mom. Like right now. It feels like the entire world is sitting on my chest that I can barely breathe.

I guess that’s what you are to me—a burden that I have to carry. When would I be free of you? When you’re dead? No. When mom is finally happy then maybe, just maybe, I will also be free of you.

Don’t worry. I have no plans of telling everyone what kind of person you really are. Come to think about it, you fooled even your relatives. You even fooled me when I was a kid. Pun intended.

In case you were wondering how your grandchildren are (I seriously doubt that you care though); here’s a summary. Karlou is now a college freshman taking Political Science. He wants to be a lawyer. Jessa is also a college freshman and will be moving in with me next school year. She wants to study in Silliman University. Mikhail is an accountancy student in UP Iloilo. Come June 2011, he will be on his 4thyear. He plans to study law right after. Nikki is already in highschool. She doesn’t know what she wants to do yet. TJ is going to be a college freshman this coming school year. As for my Bela, you never really met her. So I don’t think she counts as your granddaughter.

Well, that’s about it. We are happy without you. As long as we don’t think about the hurt that you’ve caused, we’re pretty much okay without you. Things happen for a reason. That’s what they always say. One of these days, I’ll find out what the reason is (or are). But until that time, I’ll keep on searching.

I don’t remember when I last wrote to you. Maybe I was in highschool (still using the yellow pad paper)… Or college. Anyway, this is probably the last. Allow me to thank you for being a father to me. Even for such a short time. Thank you for financing (a part of) my studies and etc.


P.S.Two of your grandchildren will become future lawyers. Now you already have an idea who’s going to represent mom in the courtroom. Good luck. You need it.

And to all you reading, do not react ever so violently. If you don’t know the entire story, then better just shut it. If you have a complete family and you don’t have a clue what it feels to be in one, then just shut it. It’s easy to say ‘don’t hate’, ‘forgive’, etc… But it’s harder than it sounds. Unless you actually know how I feel, how my mom feels, how my siblings feel—better just shut it. And I don’t care if you’re his relative coz if you are, then you’re least affected coz we all know that he takes care of his relatives.We all experience pain. We all get hurt. The levels are not the same. I can’t imagine your pain or the level of pain coz we experience it differently. So don’t try to imagine mine.

***When I was in college (2000), my dad’s sister and I would email each other. I confided in her (via email) how I felt. But it was her husband who replied. He told me that I was TOO childish that I should just ‘get over it’. “It” meaning my dad leaving. I stopped writing her (them–whatever) after that. He was mean. Well, how could he know, right? Whenever he came over to the Philippines, I would always be several islands away.***

This is us… Sans the father. 🙂

Father’s Day 2006

***Didn’t I mention that I’m transferring some stuff from my old blog site/s to this? Anyway, this I wrote (as you can see in the title) several years ago. During this time, I  think I still didn’t know the real score between my parents. You’ll see.***

I  greeted all my father friends and those who I consider as my second father today… Funny thing is I didn’t get to greet my own father a happy father’s day… If only I could then I would…
I grew up with my mom and my siblings. My father was always out of the country—working. Until such time that he left—for good. It was hard. It still is. But according to my sister, he already moved on—without us. I should do the same thing. I know that she is right.

I envy those kids who grew up with their family intact. I hope that they see it as a big blessing. I frown at the thought of other kids wishing that they didn’t have parents. How selfish. They don’t know how life is without a father.

I remember just a little bit of happy moments with my dad. I can’t even remember a time that we went out as a family. I just remember being with my mom and my siblings. I was happy. But human as I am, I still think about life with a dad.

I look at my family right now. It’s full of mighty bond (the glue). We’ve been broken in so many places that it’s hard for me to look for an unbroken spot. But despite all these broken parts, I find it hard to think of myself belonging to another family. Yes, things could have been better but I have a feeling that all is for the best—according to God’s Will.

Dad, if you ever get to read this, HAPPY FATHER’S DAY for today and for always…

For my Lolo, I miss you… Happy Father’s day to you…

To all the Dads… Tatays… Papas… HAPPY FATHER’S DAY…

And for God, thank you… For blessing me with people who are like a father to me.

***After pasting my piece (above), I decided to insert a picture of my family with my dad. But wtf! I could only find this picture and his 2×2 ID picture!!! Well, better read my next entry.***

So… I’m the one wearing a vest. This was taken 17 or 18 years ago. Well, in this pic, you pretty much know where my dad is. This was on Christmas Day. I remember this so well because when he was still around, every Christmas Day, we have our ‘helpers’ (In the Philippines–esp in the Visayas, our term is “SA-OP”. Those who live in my mom’s land and pretty much those who help us in our own house) and their family come over and we give them presents, food, and just have fun with them. I miss those times…