Our Fathers
This article was lifted from one of my emails to a Webshots member whose mother had just died. The father visits this friend of mine quite regularly perhaps out of loneliness. Hence, this was my email response:
I was deeply touched by your sweet account of your father’s visit and the chitchat you had with him. This tearfully brought me back to the years between 1985 and 1988, the year my father died. After my mom passed away, those 3 years I had with my dad were precious. Your dad’s visits to you were similar to my dad’s visits to me.
Dad would often drop by our house with all sorts of foodstuff & nice things for my family. He’d relate some stories about my mom, including some mischief he undertook. He had 1 or 2 indiscretions before while mom was still alive, and he painfully took the effort to tell us how remorseful he was about them. Yes, in spite of these, he truly loved my mom.
Of all the times that we were together for chitchat, I could never forget this one particular occasion that we were alone – just us together. He told me a story and my twin sister’s in it. So this is his story:
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As a baby and toddler, I was the weaker one, prone to sickness and skin disease than my twin did. Since I was more sickly as a child, naturally, I tended to be more irritable and fussy. So my dad would rather pick-up and cuddle my sister more often than me. And it was just like that for a good number of months, until a terrible accident happened to me when I turned a year old.
If you recall, the Johnson’s baby powder container then was made of tin can, including the bottle cap which was rather sharp at the edges. My parents were not around except for my lola (grandma) who babysat my older brother and us, twins. Somehow, I swallowed the bottlecap and got myself to choking. Seeing my condition, my lola tried prying the cap from my throat using her finger, but this only made it worse. By then I was turning blue from lack of oxygen & my lola froze up & became so hysterical that our neighbors overheard her. They quickly jumped over our fence to investigate, and saw my lola helpless and crying. Only then did they turn their attention to me and notice I was blue and lifeless. Without hesitation, the lady neighbor (dear Lord, bless her soul) just snatched me up, whisked me off in her arms and ran like mad to the nearest hospital (V. Luna Hospital). The doctor told her that had I been taken there a minute later, I would have been a goner.
Immediately after this incident and henceforth, whether I was fussy or not, my father would pick me up MORE OFTEN than he would my sister. Perhaps out of sheer guilt, or maybe gratitude, that I was still alive my father said he drew much closer to me. (End of story)
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You know what? As far back as I can remember, I never really noticed that he cared for me more than my sister. If ever he did, my sister and I never felt the difference. We equally felt his love and care. But somehow, right after he related this story to me, one thing for sure happened. I grew to love my father EVEN MORE. If there was any moment in my entire life that I have ever felt my father’s special love, it was then. Oh, how I miss him so, especially now that he's gone.
So now, please cherish your moments with your dad as often as you can. More so now - now that your mom is no longer around to keep him company. Never, never say “no” to any of his invitations for chitchats. Who knows what stories of gem-like value you can pick up from those moments of togetherness. Come to think of it, whether they are of seeming value or not, that’s really immaterial. What’s important is that by the time he’s gone from this world, you would have created and accumulated precious moments together with him. Pictures and videos with him and your family will do wonders as you share documented happiness for the next generation – to your “apos”, eventually.
And you know what? You will have made one soul utterly happy and blessed, and so overflowing with love enough to last him more than a lifetime. And because of that, the same blessings will certainly bounce back to you even in YOUR own lifetime. Who knows, maybe your own daughter may bestow that back to you. Just as you have been doing, and still are now doing with your own dear father.
As my thoughts of you and your father still linger in me, I close this mail.
I was deeply touched by your sweet account of your father’s visit and the chitchat you had with him. This tearfully brought me back to the years between 1985 and 1988, the year my father died. After my mom passed away, those 3 years I had with my dad were precious. Your dad’s visits to you were similar to my dad’s visits to me.
Dad would often drop by our house with all sorts of foodstuff & nice things for my family. He’d relate some stories about my mom, including some mischief he undertook. He had 1 or 2 indiscretions before while mom was still alive, and he painfully took the effort to tell us how remorseful he was about them. Yes, in spite of these, he truly loved my mom.
Of all the times that we were together for chitchat, I could never forget this one particular occasion that we were alone – just us together. He told me a story and my twin sister’s in it. So this is his story:
-------------------------------------------------------
As a baby and toddler, I was the weaker one, prone to sickness and skin disease than my twin did. Since I was more sickly as a child, naturally, I tended to be more irritable and fussy. So my dad would rather pick-up and cuddle my sister more often than me. And it was just like that for a good number of months, until a terrible accident happened to me when I turned a year old.
If you recall, the Johnson’s baby powder container then was made of tin can, including the bottle cap which was rather sharp at the edges. My parents were not around except for my lola (grandma) who babysat my older brother and us, twins. Somehow, I swallowed the bottlecap and got myself to choking. Seeing my condition, my lola tried prying the cap from my throat using her finger, but this only made it worse. By then I was turning blue from lack of oxygen & my lola froze up & became so hysterical that our neighbors overheard her. They quickly jumped over our fence to investigate, and saw my lola helpless and crying. Only then did they turn their attention to me and notice I was blue and lifeless. Without hesitation, the lady neighbor (dear Lord, bless her soul) just snatched me up, whisked me off in her arms and ran like mad to the nearest hospital (V. Luna Hospital). The doctor told her that had I been taken there a minute later, I would have been a goner.
Immediately after this incident and henceforth, whether I was fussy or not, my father would pick me up MORE OFTEN than he would my sister. Perhaps out of sheer guilt, or maybe gratitude, that I was still alive my father said he drew much closer to me. (End of story)
---------------------------------------------------------
You know what? As far back as I can remember, I never really noticed that he cared for me more than my sister. If ever he did, my sister and I never felt the difference. We equally felt his love and care. But somehow, right after he related this story to me, one thing for sure happened. I grew to love my father EVEN MORE. If there was any moment in my entire life that I have ever felt my father’s special love, it was then. Oh, how I miss him so, especially now that he's gone.
So now, please cherish your moments with your dad as often as you can. More so now - now that your mom is no longer around to keep him company. Never, never say “no” to any of his invitations for chitchats. Who knows what stories of gem-like value you can pick up from those moments of togetherness. Come to think of it, whether they are of seeming value or not, that’s really immaterial. What’s important is that by the time he’s gone from this world, you would have created and accumulated precious moments together with him. Pictures and videos with him and your family will do wonders as you share documented happiness for the next generation – to your “apos”, eventually.
And you know what? You will have made one soul utterly happy and blessed, and so overflowing with love enough to last him more than a lifetime. And because of that, the same blessings will certainly bounce back to you even in YOUR own lifetime. Who knows, maybe your own daughter may bestow that back to you. Just as you have been doing, and still are now doing with your own dear father.
As my thoughts of you and your father still linger in me, I close this mail.
Labels: fathers
posted by Mary Ann Regala Raya at 9:21 PM
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