“Iniwanan ka ba, Bea?” (Did someone left you, Bea?) My friend asked me.
“Yes! My father left me.” Was my immediate reply. I was surprised with my answer.
Suddenly I felt like I hit something inside me. Everything that was bothering me for several weeks had an answer. I knew what I had to do but I just can’t do it. I want to let go and move on but it was so difficult for me to do it.
Hidden emotions began to surface. I felt like I was being transported back to where I was before. The time that I would never want to go back or even recall.
Yes!... Papa left me! Anger slowly engulfed me. I was so furious. But.. hate? I can’t hate him. I was just very very angry. I cried so much. But crying doesn’t ease the pain that I was feeling. I must say something. I must tell him what I feel. But Papa is gone. Gone forever. I was sure he could not even hear me.
Then I knew what to do. I knew where to go. I left my friend and went to the PEA. I was glad it was dark that night. Few people inside. I sat in the front pew. I felt I need to be closer so I would get God’s attention and make Him listen only to me.
As I closed my eyes, tears started to fall. I felt I wasn’t the present me. I was back to my younger self. An eight year old child again. I thought I was his girl. I thought I was special to him. I thought I was his favorite. I was great in school. I make him so happy every end of the school year. He would go up the stage, pin my ribbons or put on my medals. He was so proud of me. But how could he do this to me? I was asking God. I was like a child telling my Heavenly Father what my father did to me and I want Him to punish him. He betrayed me. He rejected me. He ignored me. I was saying sorry and he didn’t listen.
I felt rage inside me. I found myself cursing my father. I was silently shouting at him. “You’re so unfair! You didn’t tell me you were leaving. You knew you were not coming back and you didn’t tell me! I’m so angry with you!” I was crying so hard. But I felt good inside as I was saying those words. It was like something deeper was coming out. I felt every word was healing me.
Going to my senses, I was surprise. All these years I’ve been having this feeling towards my father. My child in me felt ignored when Papa can’t no longer hear my sorry. I remember I saw him grasping for breath. My mother held him in her hands. His eyeballs turning around. It scared me to get near him with his white eyes but my mother insisted. She told me to ask sorry to Papa. But how could he hear me? I doubted it. I wasn’t even sure if he saw me or was looking at me. He was saying something, calling on someone and I was sure it was not me. My mother said then that he was knocking at her chest and telling someone to open the door.
During the time that he was bedridden, my family except me was with him in my grandfather’s house. I was left at home with my Aunt. I was just fetched by my Uncle then. The child in me felt betrayed because he didn’t ask for me earlier when I could still see him well or talk to him or serve him. I was only called when he was already dying. I thought we were close. But he didn’t tell me he was leaving. That he was not coming back. It was several weeks ago when he was yet well enough to hear my goodbye when I left him. I accompanied my Aunt back at our house. Poor me. I thought he was healing and won’t really die.
It really felt so good saying those angry words to my father. My footsteps while I was walking home would go with every words that I still kept on repeating until I reached home. I knew it was not nice but I just felt good pouring out my anger. That time I felt like my father was listening to me. This time, I wasn’t feeling ignored and betrayed and left behind. I kept asking why did he do it to me. But I never got an answer. I cried myself to sleep that night.
Days passed by, finally I was able to let go and move on. Life became brighter and lighter to me. It was easier to be happy. Life for me became clearer. I knew what to do with my life. I never felt so free as I was in my whole life. It was another new life for me and I decided I will make the very best of it. I will continue to love and love even more.
This time, also, I promised myself not to miss my monthly mass for my father. Ever since I got a job, sponsoring a monthly mass for my his soul has been part of my budget. I would also offer my sacrifices for him especially when I miss him or dreamed of him. I would mention his name during my rosaries. One time I just felt I wanted to get married already. Then I dreamed it was my wedding day. He was my groom and he was angry. Well, I think he should be because in reality I didn’t have a boyfriend. These made feel close to him even if he’s gone.
It was one of my beautiful nights a few months later. In my sleep I saw my self in a small road. With me were lots of white robed men standing. They didn’t notice me. They all seemed to be heeding the highway a few footsteps away. While I was walking between them, suddenly a man turned his head and smiled at me. I was surprised. As I decided to smile back, I woke up.
I can’t seem to believe but I was sure it was my father. It was the first time in 26 years that I dreamed of him smiling. My dreams would always be his expressionless and serious faces. My first dream when I was small was that I was hugging him so tight crying out loud telling him I miss him so much. But he just silently hugged me and stared at me.
Suddenly it occurred to me. Papa didn’t really left me. All those years he was with me all along. He just couldn’t leave me yet without telling me so, especially when he wasn’t coming back. He really heard my sorry, then. But my wounded heart couldn’t hear and wouldn’t listen to his sorry. He waited for me to grow up. Boy, how he loved me so much and was crazy about me! * Indeed, I’m his girl!
This incident happened three years ago. Two weeks before my father’s death anniversary I received a text from my brother telling me he dreamed of our father. He was going somewhere and he was smiling at him.I felt very happy. I just knew where he was going. Now that his girl is ok….
Papa is going home.
This month, August, is the 28th death anniversary of my father. Let us not cease to pray for the souls especially of our loved ones. I believe that most effective prayers that they get comes from the people that loved them so much. Let us bring more souls to heaven so we would have lots of saints praying for us and especially when it would be our time to leave this earth. Who knows, we might just go directly to heaven. *
“Yes! My father left me.” Was my immediate reply. I was surprised with my answer.
Suddenly I felt like I hit something inside me. Everything that was bothering me for several weeks had an answer. I knew what I had to do but I just can’t do it. I want to let go and move on but it was so difficult for me to do it.
Hidden emotions began to surface. I felt like I was being transported back to where I was before. The time that I would never want to go back or even recall.
Yes!... Papa left me! Anger slowly engulfed me. I was so furious. But.. hate? I can’t hate him. I was just very very angry. I cried so much. But crying doesn’t ease the pain that I was feeling. I must say something. I must tell him what I feel. But Papa is gone. Gone forever. I was sure he could not even hear me.
Then I knew what to do. I knew where to go. I left my friend and went to the PEA. I was glad it was dark that night. Few people inside. I sat in the front pew. I felt I need to be closer so I would get God’s attention and make Him listen only to me.
As I closed my eyes, tears started to fall. I felt I wasn’t the present me. I was back to my younger self. An eight year old child again. I thought I was his girl. I thought I was special to him. I thought I was his favorite. I was great in school. I make him so happy every end of the school year. He would go up the stage, pin my ribbons or put on my medals. He was so proud of me. But how could he do this to me? I was asking God. I was like a child telling my Heavenly Father what my father did to me and I want Him to punish him. He betrayed me. He rejected me. He ignored me. I was saying sorry and he didn’t listen.
I felt rage inside me. I found myself cursing my father. I was silently shouting at him. “You’re so unfair! You didn’t tell me you were leaving. You knew you were not coming back and you didn’t tell me! I’m so angry with you!” I was crying so hard. But I felt good inside as I was saying those words. It was like something deeper was coming out. I felt every word was healing me.
Going to my senses, I was surprise. All these years I’ve been having this feeling towards my father. My child in me felt ignored when Papa can’t no longer hear my sorry. I remember I saw him grasping for breath. My mother held him in her hands. His eyeballs turning around. It scared me to get near him with his white eyes but my mother insisted. She told me to ask sorry to Papa. But how could he hear me? I doubted it. I wasn’t even sure if he saw me or was looking at me. He was saying something, calling on someone and I was sure it was not me. My mother said then that he was knocking at her chest and telling someone to open the door.
During the time that he was bedridden, my family except me was with him in my grandfather’s house. I was left at home with my Aunt. I was just fetched by my Uncle then. The child in me felt betrayed because he didn’t ask for me earlier when I could still see him well or talk to him or serve him. I was only called when he was already dying. I thought we were close. But he didn’t tell me he was leaving. That he was not coming back. It was several weeks ago when he was yet well enough to hear my goodbye when I left him. I accompanied my Aunt back at our house. Poor me. I thought he was healing and won’t really die.
It really felt so good saying those angry words to my father. My footsteps while I was walking home would go with every words that I still kept on repeating until I reached home. I knew it was not nice but I just felt good pouring out my anger. That time I felt like my father was listening to me. This time, I wasn’t feeling ignored and betrayed and left behind. I kept asking why did he do it to me. But I never got an answer. I cried myself to sleep that night.
Days passed by, finally I was able to let go and move on. Life became brighter and lighter to me. It was easier to be happy. Life for me became clearer. I knew what to do with my life. I never felt so free as I was in my whole life. It was another new life for me and I decided I will make the very best of it. I will continue to love and love even more.
This time, also, I promised myself not to miss my monthly mass for my father. Ever since I got a job, sponsoring a monthly mass for my his soul has been part of my budget. I would also offer my sacrifices for him especially when I miss him or dreamed of him. I would mention his name during my rosaries. One time I just felt I wanted to get married already. Then I dreamed it was my wedding day. He was my groom and he was angry. Well, I think he should be because in reality I didn’t have a boyfriend. These made feel close to him even if he’s gone.
It was one of my beautiful nights a few months later. In my sleep I saw my self in a small road. With me were lots of white robed men standing. They didn’t notice me. They all seemed to be heeding the highway a few footsteps away. While I was walking between them, suddenly a man turned his head and smiled at me. I was surprised. As I decided to smile back, I woke up.
I can’t seem to believe but I was sure it was my father. It was the first time in 26 years that I dreamed of him smiling. My dreams would always be his expressionless and serious faces. My first dream when I was small was that I was hugging him so tight crying out loud telling him I miss him so much. But he just silently hugged me and stared at me.
Suddenly it occurred to me. Papa didn’t really left me. All those years he was with me all along. He just couldn’t leave me yet without telling me so, especially when he wasn’t coming back. He really heard my sorry, then. But my wounded heart couldn’t hear and wouldn’t listen to his sorry. He waited for me to grow up. Boy, how he loved me so much and was crazy about me! * Indeed, I’m his girl!
This incident happened three years ago. Two weeks before my father’s death anniversary I received a text from my brother telling me he dreamed of our father. He was going somewhere and he was smiling at him.I felt very happy. I just knew where he was going. Now that his girl is ok….
Papa is going home.
This month, August, is the 28th death anniversary of my father. Let us not cease to pray for the souls especially of our loved ones. I believe that most effective prayers that they get comes from the people that loved them so much. Let us bring more souls to heaven so we would have lots of saints praying for us and especially when it would be our time to leave this earth. Who knows, we might just go directly to heaven. *
