Exactly 37 years ago today, November 2nd. I was just a little girl, who woke one morning and had her mom telling her that her dad was gone. Yes, I said, he's gone. I knew that he went out of town, I was told, he went with his best friend. I didn't understand much more than that, I saw my mom with tears rolling down her cheeks calling out dad's name. As hours went by, I began to see that things are different around the house, we had guests, some relatives came, I saw sad faces. I noticed no smile around. It was really somber and cold. Grey and dark. Gloomy.
I remember seeing one of my cousins although I knew many were there too. But it was what she said to me, to this day I could never forget. She's about 10 years older than I am, she said something about me not shedding any tears...... How could I shed tears if I could not comprehend what happened? Nobody explained to me what "gone" meant, even the word death itself, that was mentioned around then. Nobody saw this coming, dad seemed healthy, nobody talked about death and dying. Everyone was young, too young to die. Only old people and the sick were supposed to die, I would think.
Then, there was a funeral, there was a lot of tears, there was my dad's body being buried and everyone cried. Why? What did all these mean? What's going to happen next? I could not understand the consequences of what happened that day ...... so why cry? I was lost. So lost without direction, I can't recall what happened that day. Nothing.
Being so young, I also could not revive the memory of my siblings' reaction to what happened that day and I just could not place where they were and what they did and who was with me. My eldest brother was 20 years old and my younger sister was merely five months old, the numbers were calculated years later, after I knew Math better and understand life better. People's attention was more on my mom, who cried so much and my baby sister, understandably. I found out, bit by bit and over time, that financially we were so tight too. Mom didn't work and had no savings. My brothers had work to support the rest of us. It was really tough on everyone.....
Years later, I still have very little memory of my father, who suddenly left his wife and his nine children at the age of merely 48 years. We have some of his pictures, which helps me put together how he looked like. But I barely had any recollection of him and what he and I did together. I registered a couple of things in my mind only because I was repeatedly told of the stories, one of which was that dad took me out on his bike to get some food to bring home. There are pictures of our trip together as a family and some family pictures taken days before he left. Those were the last pictures of him..... Pictures that more often than not, bring a pang of sadness.
Today I just want to remember my dad and hope wherever he is, he knows that I think of him and my tears of sadness for losing him have been poured out many times many years later and right now as I write this. Yes, I am sad that I lost him and the sadness of not having a father is always there, no matter how old you are. I always remember November 2nd. I wish I could have spent more time with him and really remember things that we have done together better. I wish he could have stay on this earth a little longer. But whatever life experiences I had to go through has made me what I am today and I believe I am a stronger person and a bigger dreamer because of that.
Mom is with him now and they can hang out together again. Here I am dad, one marriage and three kids later. Love ya!
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