This moment also happens to be the saddest moment of my life. My father died on 21 January 2013, 12 days after my birthday. We buried him 6 days later. It wasn’t until his body was buried six feet under did I take a close look at all my relationships: the one I’m with, my friends, my family. It was a rude awakening.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t good to me. It wasn’t that he wasn’t kind. It was the lost wonder, the humility that comes with feeling a sense of disbelief that this person is with you. The how-did-I-get-so-lucky feeling. The I-cannot-believe-she-chose-me feeling. That one went out the window quite a long time ago, and it took three wheelbarrows of dirt and a hole in the ground to make myself finally admit that.
I have lost touch with the oldest of friends so much that if they did not insist on being present in my life, I won’t insist on their presence too. That was one of the worst decisions I’ve made, because at my lowest low, my friends were the first one to rally with me. I am blessed.
My brothers were hesitant to depend on me, but when our father passed, they knew they can count on me for anything. Some may say this kind of dependence should not be present anymore when you get older, but I do not mind. I want my brothers to need me as much as I need them.
I realized too that the strongest person in the room — actually in most rooms — is either my mother or my grandmother. I can only hope to grow up as strong willed as them.
So… I packed my bags for a quick staycation with my best friend and sister Marga, a quick trip to Cebu with another friend, went back to school, worked my butt off, and reclaimed the love that was never lost in the first place.
It is sad that my father cannot see that I am at my happiest, even though work sucks most days and school is hard. Still, my heart has never been happier, more content, and more at home with it belonging to one man and to all the people I have pulled back in my life.
Oh how glorious it is to be loved by the man who wishes to carry your baggage with you. <3