A Not So Happy Birthday…

Remembering Papa
Today is my father’s birthday. He was actually born on the mountains because my grandparents had to hide from the Japanese because it was World War II at that time. SInce life was hard, he was fed thru a goat’s milk. I don’t know if it was a joke but according to him, that was the reason why he isn’t tall as some fathers are.

I hardly remember celebrating this day with Papa. I guess this is really typical for an OFW child like me whose fathers have to go abroad just for the need to survive. I was only five years old when Papa decided to leave and work here in the Middle East. I don’t have that much fond memories celebrating this day when I was younger because Papa would only come for vacation once in every four years and that would not be on his birthday. But I would not forget to send him Birthday Cards and I think that was the most memorable thing that I can remember doing during that time. Where computers is not a fad yet and snail mails and not e-mails is the “in” thing. Where Facebook and Twitter hasn’t evolved yet and that we do voice tape recording instead of voice/video chat or calls. In those years of his absence, exchanging letters sent thru the postal office and voice tape sent thru a co-worker who is in vacation are the only means to fill the gap and bridge the distance between a father and a daughter. But those days are gone now…

But God is so good that we had the chance to live together in one roof here in the Middle East when he petitioned me and Mama as his dependents. But the first years were tough for me and Mama living with Papa. It wasn’t the way I expected it to be when we were still exchanging letters where we usually write sweet things and happy thoughts. It was different maybe because I was used in living without a Papa beside me during my growing-up years, no disciplinarian father to do some disciplinary actions when I did something wrong. That before, I only looked-up to him as someone who provides for our needs, never had the chance to dance with him on my eighteenth birthday (though I didn’t had a grand celebration) or even witness one of the most important event in my life: my Graduation Day from College. In short, there was no “Father Image” during the critical years of my life. I guess, time and distance has set us apart knowing not each others true personalities and never realized that we are really strangers. Not to mention the “Culture Shock” I experienced in this place. I didn’t understand that time why he is so used in the way of life here and that he loved living in this place.

But although the days are tough, we manage to fill the gaps each day thru the help of our Lord. By then, we were able to celebrate not only his birthday but also mine and my daughter’s which we usually do in our home where he will cook his favorite recipe “Turkey Pata Tim”. Sometimes we will just eat out in our favorite restaurant or just have a picnic in the park because Papa is not a fan of a big party. But even those days are also gone.

When the time everything seem going perfectly right and the whole family was almost together, where me and my younger brother had our own family, and my elder sister is living with us happily here in the Middle East, Papa died of a car accident. His death was so sudden, tragic and devastating. It felt like we were robbed of the joy of being together after so many years of having an on and off Papa. I felt like I was being cheated because the years we were apart are far more greater than the years we were together. That if only I knew, I would have celebrated the last five years of his birthday grander than what we did.

Now, I would just remember the last time we celebrated it on the 30th of June 2006 where we we decided to do a triple celebration since my daughter and elder sister were also born in the month of June. And I’m more than thankful to our Heavenly Father that during that time, we celebrated it with a worship service and our pastor was able to pray for the three birthday celebrants. It was a day filled with not only fun and laughter but also a day of worship and prayers to our Lord not knowing that it was Papa’s last birthday celebration with us.
For now, I want to think that Papa just went to another country.Where I would usually cry every time he is going back in the Middle East after a month of vacation and asking him in between sobs:

“Sabi mo isasama mo ako, sabi mo ilalagay mo ako sa maleta mo!   

I will just think like a child on why we will not be able to celebrate this day with him anymore. That it will be just like before when I was still young,

“Nasa abroad lang si Papa….