September 29, 2011

I woke up very early that Thursday. That meant I’d have more time for myself – to have my quiet time, to read, and to clean the house before my boys get up. I walked down our stairs, telling myself “Maybe I should write that tribute to Daddy. He may not read it anymore.”

I have no idea why I thought about that but I really did.

I wasn’t able to do any of the things I mentioned. I proceeded to the kitchen to cook the recipes I’d been wanting to prepare for my family: Mango Salad and Celery Soup. I’d gone serious with my cooking and had started to bring meals to my parents. I even bought a “Low Cholesterol Diet” book so I could cook for my dad. He’d been undergoing a new series of medical tests for more than a month then. It was the first since he suffered a mild stroke five years ago. But he was fine – his test results were okay and he just needed to take his medicines regularly.

I ordered five bottles of Green Barley from a friend. It’s the latest superfood. I was told barley is good for the health. I’ve tried a couple of bottles already and I noticed I became more energetic. So I planned to give the rest to my dad. My order came that very same Thursday. I was hopeful he’d be healthier.

I went to work– which was just in front of my computer. I was ecstatic to use my new monitor. I had just gotten an adapter so I could connect my MacBook Air to Joshua’s old monitor. I had a new workstation. And then I thought about my old desktop PC. “I’ll give it to daddy so he can have his own in their room“, I thought.

Amazon just announced its new lineup of Kindles. It was my first assignment for the day. It took me a while to finish it because I had to edit a bunch of images and make photo galleries. After finishing my Kindle article, I decided I’d buy daddy a Kindle this coming November. He loved to read, reading all the materials he could lay his eyes on. I promised I’d subscribe him to Reader’s Digest when he gets the Kindle. My husband’s boss was coming so I thought I’d ask him to get the e-reader for me.

Because of the busyness that day, or should I say my laziness, I wasn’t able to take a bath earlier. After that one article, I settled Noah on my office chair to watch his current favorite “Polar Express”. I grabbed my towel but I didn’t head to the bathroom immediately. I saw that our sink had a lot of unwashed dishes so the OC in me went and started to wash the plates.

Then, suddenly, my phone rang. I ignored the first ring because I was busy. It rang the second time so I hurried to answer it.

“Yang, si Daddy mo inatake. San ko dadalhin?“, my mom said panicking.

I remember answering, “Ha?” I couldn’t decide so I asked Josh. My husband answered “Polymedic” since it was nearest. I thought of saying “Medical City” but I thought it was too far.

I started calling on the name of Jesus. I’ve lost count of how many times I blurted His name. Noah had no idea that I was panicking. My husband told me to remain calm. Surprisingly, I wasn’t freaking out (not yet). I just kept on saying “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus…”

I took a quick shower in our bathroom upstairs. I don’t often use that, but that day I did. I wasn’t crying yet. I was alternating saying “Jesus” and “Peace”. And then I thought, “Why wasn’t I praying for my dad to be healed?”. For a second I thought I was being selfish. It was my prayer for God to give me PEACE. Later on I learned from a Pastor that it was God leading me to pray that kind of prayer.

Peace was given right away. I had that moment in the shower when everything turned slow and silent. It happened for a few seconds. It was like in the movies: I was moving slow and images were blurred. Now that I think about it and the time it happened, perhaps it was that very moment that my Daddy has breathed his last breath.

I hurried down, grabbed my bag, and hugged my husband. By this time, Noah was crying because he realized I’d be going out. I apologized to my son and ran out the gate. I ran and ran and ran. I ran the whole stretch of the street with the wind on my face. It was getting dark. I was still repeating the name “Jesus” and the word “Peace”.

As if by some Divine intervention, the first cab I saw was available. I told the driver “Manong, emergency lang ho, Mandaluyong Hospital.” My mom called again to tell me traffic was really bad so they brought daddy instead to the public hospital. I had reservations about the hospital but I said we’d just transfer him as soon as possible.

I called Kuya Chad, my brother-in-law, as I decided not to call my sister so she wouldn’t worry. I told him the details and he told me to remain calm. They would be praying.

The ride to the hospital was a blur but I remember texting some of my friends asking for prayers. Fortunately, traffic from our house to the hospital was light. I got there within 15 minutes.

I got out of the cab. I remember my steps were hurried. It was as if I was skipping. It was the first time I’d been to that hospital. It was dark outside but I put on a brave front. I was trying to compose myself.

It was like another scene in a movie: girl asks where the emergency room is, passes through the crowd saying “Excuse me”, opens a huge door, and then sees her father lying on the stretcher with the doctors and the nurses fussing over him.

I saw my mother and my brother. They were calm. I hugged my mom and she apologized that she only got to bring daddy there. I told her it was okay because it was the nearest and the most sensible thing to do. I knelt down by my daddy’s head and whispered “Daddy, we’re just here. We love you”. I had no idea about his state so I held his forehead and prayed for him. Everyone in the ER was looking at us — at me. I knew they were staring at this woman who was praying over the new patient.

After a while, I stood up and asked the doctor, “So what’s happening? What are you doing?”

She said, “We are trying to resuscitate him. But we checked his eyes, dilated na. No more pulse. We’re just waiting for the flatline.”

I snapped, “Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop.”

I had no idea what to say. Did that statement mean my dad is dead? Gone? “We’re just waiting for the flatline”… just like in the movies!

My mom and brother went to the other side of the room while I stayed near daddy. I was still praying. Now I was praying for a miracle. And then the nurses were slowly leaving. The doctor was already seated. I was left alone. Still no flatline.

I was confused. “So that’s it? He’s dead?” I still hadn’t mustered up the guts to say to myself he’s gone. I told my mom, “Mommy, gumagalaw pa yung chest nya, may pag-asa pa.” I really had no idea.

I went to the doctor and asked her again, “So ano na po, doc?”

She replied, “Yun na po, we’re just waiting for the flatline”

I said, “So umm, what’s the time of death?”

She answered, “6:32.”

That was it. Dad was gone.

I went back to his side quietly and held his hand. My mom saw me from where she was seated and asked “Ano na?” I went to her and said “Wala na daw eh”. She gave me a puzzled look and then slowly went to our daddy. My brother didn’t ask but he understood.

We stayed at his side for what seemed like the longest ten minutes of our life. I was holding his left hand and telling him that I love him. I remember thanking him right then and there for our life…our family. We were all crying. Mommy kissed him for the last time.

I called my brother-in-law again. I said, “Kuya, wala na eh.”

“Anong wala na?”

“Wala na si daddy eh”

“Exhaust nyo lahat ng dapat gawin”

“Wala na eh… wala na.”

And then I hung up.

I stopped crying. I comforted my mom and reassured her that it was his time. “It’s his time. He has lived a full life. Let’s thank God that daddy was such a good husband and father. He loved us and we loved him.”

Dayang, a friend from church, came. She was witness to that very sad moment of our life as a family. I didn’t see it but she said it was she who closed my daddy’s eyes.

Really at that time, God gave me peace once again. That daddy was in heaven. My God reminded me that my earthly father was a good man. He had left us good memories.

I stood up. I wanted to be away from the body so I asked one of the nurses to bring him to the morgue. It was only the body after all.

He was gone.

I texted my husband, simply, “No more.”

My brother brought him to the morgue. Mom and I went outside the ER. An hour after I got the dreaded call, daddy was suddenly in Heaven. In my mind, I was rejoicing because I knew that he was no longer in pain. He was now singing with the angels.

Some family and friends came to comfort us. Everything was a blur once again but I remember trying to call my best friend, Cecille, in the US. She didn’t answer so I called her sister instead to share the news. A few church friends started calling too, asking about what happened.

By God’s grace, we were calm. I was calm. It was God’s peace. It was one of those real times that you’d see peace as something that passes human understanding. I could still smile.

But when I went to find my brother at the morgue, I let out a hard cry. I didn’t want my mom to see me. I was trying to be strong for her. It was only with my brother that I cried, hard and loud. We hugged crying for a while.

The body was immediately transferred from the morgue to the memorial home. It all happened too quickly. My uncle was with us and helped with the arrangements and all. Before we went home, Pastor Jesse prayed for the family. His prayer first affirmed what I’d been feeling…

PEACE.

That was what held me that day. And that is what is keeping me from being lonely – God’s peace.

________
Writing helps me cope with grief. I had to write how I remembered that day. For two months, I would cry every single day. It wasn’t tears of regret but more of loneliness. But then there’s peace and joy that He is already in heaven. And hapiness because he was such a good father to me.

NOTE: More than three years ago I wrote “A Tribute for Mommy” for Mother’s Day. I meant to write one for daddy too but I never got to doing it until he passed away last month. I don’t know why but that fateful day of September 29, 2011, I thought of writing one because I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to read it. True enough, he wasn’t able to because that same day, he went home to be with the Lord.

I didn’t have a hard time writing this piece. I didn’t expect it to be a eulogy for him too. I was laughing and crying the whole time I was writing this long entry. It was probably the first time I really cried hard since he died which was only after two days.

Remembering my Daddy Pete wasn’t painful at all. In fact, it was very easy to do for he left us with plenty of good memories. I can honestly say that I, together with my parents and siblings, had a very good relationship with him. He made sure that our family always had good memories to share and remember.

Writing helps me cope up with grief. I have yet to write about his last days but for now, here is a tribute– my dad’s many stories of faith, hope, and love– a life lived for the greater glory of God.

***
My first memory of you was you making me sit on top of a swinging door we once had at home. I was crying because I was too afraid I might fall down. I remember you laughing as you were just playing with me.

On my 6th birthday, I remember you picked me up from school, brought a lot of newspapers as we had a fundraising. I felt super proud because I thought my parents were very generous.

You were my tutor. You were the one I’d ask for help in math. I won’t forget the time you taught me how to do metric conversions at grade 3. I could not get it, with your loud voice I got scared, but then i learned how to do it.

I used to be afraid of you probably because you were  tall, big, and had a very loud voice. Hearing your deep voice was too scary for any little girl. That instilled discipline in me…in us, though. I think that started the fear in me to be obedient, respectful, and not do anything that would upset you.

You would bring me, ate, and Enoch to school every single day all throughout our elementary and high school in your old beat up Passat, Corona, and Sentra. When I was in second year, you’d pick me up everyday at 4 pm except for Thursday when it’s coding. You would help me in all my art projects. I was especially proud that my dad knew how to draw because my projects would always turn out professionally done. You were more than an artist or a painter for me. You were my all-around-guy. I thought you were superman because you were very strong and could fix and do anything with your hands. Of course, you were an architect. And to tell you honestly, I got that being handy from you. I’m Mrs. Fix-it.

Every morning on our way to school, you never failed to pray for us. I remember your tuning the radio to “Hardin ng Panalangin” every morning while in the car. There were times when I dreaded  prayer time because I just wanted to sleep. There was a time when a neighbor would regularly join us on our way to school, I secretly wished you wouldn’t pray because I was too shy. But you weren’t…you were even glad to pray for that schoolmate. It was then I realized that there really is nothing to be ashamed of— our faith in God.

I know you were very proud of me. You would brag about my being on top of our class. My highschool graduation was more memorable because you got your chance to hang my medals for it was always mommy who did it every year.

College was just a blur for me but I will never forget the time you brought me to school in your elf truck. I woke up late for an exam but you managed to bring me to school, from Mandaluyong to Diliman only within 15 minutes….driving a truck. I found it too funny and cool at the same time, because some police stopped you at the checkpoint. Trucks weren’t allowed inside the campus but we got through. What college kid gets to school in a truck? Only me!

You really were my constant driver. You’d bring me to Greenhills and Ortigas every morning when you could even at 530 am. Or pick me up from the office especially when it’s late. You always drove fast and I found it super cool.

I’d always remember you for being a servant of God. You were part of the choir, the Married Couples Fellowship, the Men’s. You once were part of a Children’s Choir presentation. Who could forget the time that you played a bear and sang pompopom. I’ll also never forget when you asked me to sit in front of the audience so I could guide your timing. You were singing solo at a 4pm service.

You set the standard in my looking for a husband.I remember you telling me not to have a boyfriend while in school. And that when I do, that I not do anything that would displease God. You didn’t say “that would dishonor me (you)…but God. It’s one of the reasons why I only had a boyfriend. You guarded and guided my heart and I thank you for that.

Remember the time when I asked permission from you if I could have someone special in my life? I went inside your room, hugged you and asked the question. Your only response, “Mabait naman si Joshua.” That was my signal so the next week, I gave him my precious yes.

You were a big part of my and Joshua’s relationship.  I knew you trusted us. I knew you liked Joshua for me. I know you respect him and loved him. I’ll never forget what you said during our pamamanhikan. He asked if he could formally have my hand in marriage…you only replied with a “Good riddance”.

Some things changed when you had a mild stroke five years ago. I can still clearly remember that night you were admitted at the ICU, I stayed with you. It was painful for me because I could not see you and I was out there in an empty waiting room. I was too scared then. I was afraid you’d go but somehow I knew it wasn’t time yet. The next day, Joshua stayed with me at the hospital until midnight. I told him that my dad would still live to walk me down the aisle and see his apo. True enough, God granted our prayers that night for the next day, you were ready to be removed from the ICU.

But then you had to undergo some therapy. Seeing you weak was all too painful but you showed us that you could recover. We could see hope in your eyes. You fought. You managed to walk straight and talk clearly again because you simply did not give up. Of course, you never regained your old macho self but you showed that one can still survive a heart attack. You were physically weak but I knew that inside you were very strong. You fought for us. You lived five more years for us. You continued to serve God. You even managed to construct a building, an apartment, and did few renovations for family and friends.

Daddy, you were there in some of the most significant events in my life. You were never absent in my growing up years, you were there at my wedding, my pregnancy, Noah’s birthday and his many firsts. You’ve always been there for me, Joshua, and Noah. You’ve always been there for our family.

Joshua will never forget the time you called him before he left for Canada. I found it too sweet that you asked mommy to call him and say “ingat”.  You not only cared for me but also for my husband whom you treat as your own son. And when he came back, mommy told me that you wanted to go to our house that same night and welcome him back.

I will never forget how you’d play with Noah: peekaboo, 123, and him drumming your tummy. Or the times he’d just sit beside you whenever Rambo (the dog) would start to come near him.

You were a good provider. You were such a great father. You were a great husband. You were a great father-in-law.  You were a good tito. People will surely miss Mang Pete.

Some may say you did not do well as an architect because we’re not rich and we don’t have a big house but there are reasons for that. You spent all your money for our good and our enjoyment. We know you spent your resources well to give us a comfortable and happy life. You sent us to good schools, drove us everywhere. I will always remember Fridays at Megamall with the family. You’d pick us up from school still in our school uniform, to treat us at Wendy’s or Sbarro, take us ice skating, shopping, or watch a movie. You spent your money making great many memories for us to forever cherish. Not all kids could say that but we can…I can say that I have great memories with my dad and family.

We may not be rich but you lived life to the fullest. That is why I am more than joyful than sorrowful now for I know you are already having a blast in heaven. And besides, we had a very wonderful relationship. You were never ashamed to express your love for us in many different ways. No regrets. No if onlys. Only life treasures. Only lessons. Only good memories.

Thank you, Daddy. I owe my life to you, my education. How you raised us in faith and love. How you taught us how to love God. I love you very much. We praise the Lord for you. Your life is a legacy of someone who really loves God. I want to be that kind of person who’s never afraid to tell others of Christ. That faithful servant…

We will surely miss you but the memories you left u..the memories we have with you and God’s Peace will keep us through. I say thank you Daddy. I love you.

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