I am not supposed to do this, but i would like to keep a friend’s blog. Consider this not for your eyes.
Shame on you for continuing to read…
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Monday, March 05, 2007
remembering dad…
in loving memory of mr. wilfredo leonin gadilla
[october 27, 1943 - september 12, 2005]
last night, i was left all alone at home because my mom has to go to the province because of a dead relative which, made me miss my dad so much. it has almost been a year and a half since my dad left us to meet God, but i can still remember it too well when he last called us his “children”.
papa
was not the typical “dad” you see everyday. first and foremost, half of my dad’s body is paralyzed. [right side] due to heart attack. i was barely 7 years of age when this happened, i can clearly remember that one fateful, afternoon, it was raining so hard while i was on my aunt’s window pane and i had to wait for dad to arrive. He did arrive, but about 5 men were carrying him. Papa can barely recognize me when i came rushing to him and tried to ask what happened.
i forgot what happened next, all i can remember is that ate and i are the only ones left at home because mama had to be with papa all of the time. in my own way i was calling out to God and asking Him to make my father feel ok. i can also remember the time when ate and i went to the hospital to visit papa. ate was like, “pag tinanong ka nung guard sabihin mo 7 years old ka na ha?” [i think kids below 7 years of age are not allowed to go into hospitals then.] st luke’s hospital ward was a dreadful sight, with my dad lying there, he can remember me now and his speech was kindof affected by the attack. i was scared, i was naninibago that time because i wasn’t used to seeing my dad looking so vulnerable. he was supposed to be the one who’s protecting us, he was the one who’s supposed to be taking care of us but then he’s right there, in his hospital bed, looking so helpless.
when he was released from the hospital, mom had to be the only one working, i know we are far behind the life that we used to live. we had to be cautious of what we spend on, how much we spend, since mom gets the role of being the father who was supposed to work for us. dad slowly recovered, and before we knew it, mama and papa has switched roles.
when i was growing up, i used to envy my classmates who have their dads working at offices, who are dressed so crisply when they need to attend to PTA meetings, while my dad, on the other hand, had to do the laundry, had to cook, had to prepare breakfast and had to stay at home. i was angry because this happened to us, but i can’t remember a time that i blamed my papa for what happened to him. I wished that he’d be like all those other dads who can walk normally, for goodness’ sake, he can’t even write. That’s how much of a damage the attack left to papa.I never felt though though that he neglected us, he was always there, at home, doing all his best to fill all his shortcomings [if there should be any] as a dad. Haligi ng tahanan, kumbaga. time went by, we had to move to Binangonan because of the land that was given to papa as a benefit provided by the company to him. That’s when i felt that life’s going to be better for all of us. Most especially to papa who needed all the fresh air that he can get to cope up.
He never ceased to amaze me. He was always there taking care of us, tending to our needs. He wakes up at [freakin'] 2 in the morning, prepares breakfast for mom, even prepares the hot water for our bath. We need to be out at 5 am; mom will need to be at work, i need to catch up with my class that starts at 7am. Good thing ate is already working then, but still, papa still attends to her while doing the laundry. Multi-tasking? That’s where i got it from, i think.
Fast forward.
August 31, 2005. an incident happened between me and my sister and a misunderstanding was formed between us. Papa was sleeping on the couch, or so we thought, while ate and i were busy arguing and giving out grudges to one another. It’s because of a guy whom i learned to love, and whom my sister totally disliked. Of course papa heard all of those, but he never spoke about it.
A few days later papa started to do weird things. He’d have a hard time standing up; walking even, he almost burned the sinaing [steamed rice] and he is beginning to mention some things that we really do not understand. Right then and there, we knew, something was wrong. I kept blaming myself because i know, deep in my heart, i am the one to blame for all these.
Later within the week, papa had to be taken to the hospital. The wounds on his shin stopped healing. He really cannot stand by himself. Mama had a hard time taking care of him, she cannot carry him of course. Papa, by the way, stands 5′8†tall, while my mom is 5′.
My heart is breaking while i was seeing him, after 15 years, seeing him in his hospital bed, helpless. Again. And what hurts the most is i know that i’m what caused that to happen. What sucks is that i too, am as helpless as my dad. I can’t even pay for the hospital bills because i was only 5 months at work; i can’t have him enrolled to be a dependent for my medicard. All of my training bond and all the money i have left was spent for him, but i never really regretted any of those. If i could only give him my life instead…
another shocking news that the doctor broke out to us is that papa’s left leg needs to be amputated. He was diagnosed with Diabetes, a killer disease. Papa said, when mama tried to tell him that, “patayin nyo na lang ako kesa ipaputol ang paa ko.†how painful can life get?
After about a week, mama decided that we’d be taking papa home, and that we’d be able to take care of him. My mind’s always been in a topsy-turvy state since papa was taken to the hospital. I understood why he was always ill-tempered. It’s because of the dreadful disease that he has.
On the night of September 11, i was reluctant to go to work, im not quite sure why, papa’s last words to me were, “ingat ka…†it has always been my habit to go to work very early because i work on night shifts, it’s quite hard to commute most especially if it’s late at night. I can’t explain it, but after my shift, [i refused to attend our team meeting as well. I really cannot explain why] ate, mama and papa had to go to Manila because papa insisted that they go to the bank, they wanted to get papa’s pension, i don’t really know why. Ate told me that papa kept on asking for the time, and even before they were able to go out of Rizal…papa gave in…iniwan nya na kami…the biggest regret of my life? Is not being able to be with papa in the last few minutes of his breath. When i learned about it, i cried, of course, feeling lost for a greatly loved father who loved us more than he did himself…
papa, i know, kasama pa rin kita, binabantayan mo kami…pasensya ka na kung may mga times na naging matigas ang ulo ko…gaya ng sinabi ko, hindi naman kita ipagpapalit eh…nag-iisa ka lang na lalaki sa buhay ko. Salamat sa pag-aalaga mo. Hindi ko na kailangan pang sabihin kung gaano kita kamahal ‘pa,sana nung nandito ka pa naiparamdam ko yun sa’yo kahit papa’no.
Papa miss na miss na kita. Sana papa pag nagkita tayo napatawad mo na ko.
