We just got home from watching Enteng ng Ina Mo at The Cabanas here in Malolos. It was a very funny movie, and almost all of us in the cinema was laughing. It was a good movie, it made me laugh for a while. But now that I'm back home and mulling over things, I can't help but feel sad again.
I sincerely wish everyone a very merry Christmas, although I know mine will not be merry, nor will the next years. We spent today in the cemetery with my kids, my mom, my sister, and Henry. I was surprised that there were also a lot of other people in the cemetery, not just us. So I guess we weren't alone in being lonely this holiday season.
Since the 25th, I haven't been in the mood to do anything. I just wake up and do whatever it is that needs to be done for the day and that's it. I've just been feeling so depressed and sad about Papa that whenever I remember, I can't help but go into another round of crying.
The other day, I snapped at Henry. I knew he was just joking, but I wasn't in the mood. I felt even more bad afterwards, as I know he was just trying to cheer me up, but it wasn't just working. Ugh, when I remember how I walked out of the room and raised my voice at Henry, it makes my stomach do flips.
I didn't bother putting up a single Christmas decoration in the house either, except for one Mama gave. I'm just not in the mood to do anything. :( It's a very sad feeling, and I'm sorry for being such a bummer for my kids. Today's their Christmas party and I didn't attend. Henry's there anyway, and Keisha doesn't need company, only Nicole does. I feel really sorry for them, but I also feel sorry for myself. Eventually I know we - my mom, my sister, and I - will get over this. We will be sad still, but not gloomy anymore.
Moving on after Papa passed away is very difficult to say the least. I really, really miss my dad and there's nothing in the world I wouldn't give for just another day with him. To see him smile, have him spend time with his grandkids, laugh, and a ton of other things I'd like to do.
Whenever Henry and I would talk about Papa retiring from work, I was looking forward to having him as company whenever the kids had any programs in school where they'd dance or sing. He could watch my kids in school personally, instead of waiting for the pictures and videos I uploaded on Facebook.
Sometimes I wonder if moving to the province was actually a good idea, since I made the distance between his grandkids and him quite far. We would visit him and they'd visit us every now and then, and I wish I had made it more often rather than every now and then.
I wake up every morning and I cry, since I have to deal with another day knowing he's not going to pick up the phone when I call them, and that I won't be seeing him anymore. I cry at night before going to bed, praying with all my heart that tomorrow would be different, that I'd wake up to find out everything was just a nightmare and that everything is back to normal. But it's not, and I know it.
Every picture I took during the wake broke my heart; it was like every moment cemented itself, like a slap to my face that Papa's not going to be with us anymore. I know I'm not waking up from this nightmare, and that this isn't a nightmare, it's real. Part of me still is having a hard time accepting that.
My mom and my sister aren't doing too well either. But whenever I see them, I smile, crack jokes, and pretend that I'm OK when I'm not. I don't want them to worry about me too, especially since it's just the two of them at home.
During the wake and the actual funeral, I bottled up all my emotions until I got home, or until I got in my car. One more person crying isn't going to help, especially since we had a ton of things to take care of. I wanted to keep myself busy, since if I'm not doing anything, and whenever I find myself alone in the room, I just can't help but be overwhelmed by a feeling of sadness and grief.
A lot of people keep saying that Papa's passing was untimely, since it's Christmas just a few days away; I have to disagree. No passing is ever timely, and we'd mourn all the same whether it was Christmas or not. I keep playing a song in my head, "Christmas won't be the same without you," but it's not just Christmas. It's every waking morning and every night when I sleep that's changed.
One of the elder people commented that since Papa was buried at exactly 12 noon, they said that was very lucky. I disagreed again; there's no luck and there's nothing lucky about anything that's happened. In my opinion, it would have been lucky if Papa stood up and we all just went home and pretended nothing happened. I know that's not reality, but what the heck, so is luck.
I have a ton of pictures to look at, pictures not only from the wake, but pictures when I was still young and whenever Papa would visit us here, and spend time with my kids. It just breaks my heart that he's gone. I will most likely never stop crying. It's a very sad feeling, like a hole's been dug in your heart and that hole aches all the time.
Part of me is hoping this is all just a bad dream I will wake up from, but I know it's not, and I have to deal with the loneliness. It's hardest for my mom, so I'm trying to do everything I can to keep her occupied, and also to check on her every now and then.
My dad loved all of us despite our shortcomings. He had the patience to move mountains, was rarely angry, and made a lot of practical jokes on us and his officemates. During the wake, floods of people came. I hope somewhere out there, my dad is watching and he can see how he was loved by a ton of people. As his officemates said, he was a great boss.
I just wish he had told us about how he felt. He shouldn't have kept his health issues to himself - he worked in a hospital for crying out loud, and he can get medical treatment anytime. But my father was the type of person who didn't want to be a burden to anyone. He probably didn't want my mother to worry, so he just kept everything to himself. It breaks my heart to think about how he must have felt, and his choice to not share these feelings with anyone.
Every picture I took during the wake and the funeral cemented each event into my heart. It was like a slap, since I knew I wasn't waking up from this nightmare anymore. I just wish he was still around.
I knew he was going to retire early, and live here in the province with me, and take my mom and my eldest sister. His plans of having a house built in the piece of land he inherited from his family, live quietly, maybe take morning walks and take care of animals. I was very excited, since he could come with me to watch the kids whenever they had any school programs, come with us whenever we drove the kids to and from the school, teach my youngest how to write properly (he has the best handwriting ever), go to cockfights with us, and a ton of other things we could do together. But sadly, everything ended on November 25, 2011 when he had a heart attack. He will be forever missed.