This week has been a hurricane. I did not even find time to mourn not for Gordon’s lose but for Noynoy’s winning (sorry, I just have to let it out). But politics will be in a different post, or might not anymore because, just because.
Anyhoo, on election night, I got a call from someone related to the ugly secret, emotional baggage, skeleton burried in my burried closet. A cousin from my father side called telling me that my father is sick, and need to be in the hospital. And, she asked me if I can help in watching over my father. I was shocked not because my father is sick but the thought that the skeleton I’m trying to burry, the monster I’m trying to run away from is now very real. My parents are separated since I was 8 years old, and I grow up with my mother. I do not have constant communication (it’s like 3-5 times a year for a few minutes, which is always awkward for both of us) with my father though he lives like 2 towns from us. He also does not have another family, so there’s no reason to ‘unlike’ him.
What happen between my mother and father is an off-limit topic in our house. My mother does not trash talk on him, but her silence about it signals the very opposite. I do not even know the real reason behind their separation. The reason I know of was based on stories I overheard then I add it with some of my own made-up explanation. So to keep things normal and safe, I treat that issue as like something not existing. I do not want to stir the fake ‘peacefulness’ by merely associating myself with the other side of myself.
I do not have any hatred for my father. I am actually indifferent — which is probably my coping mechanism, my defense system. My hate is for the creeps from that monster always lurking around me, which I know any time will come to haunt me. My hate is for myself of why I cannot just face that monster head-on. But I reason out, why should I be the one to problem over that, it was never ever my fault in the first place why they got married, and separated, and make a stupid asses of theirselves.
So when I had that call my very first reaction was — there I have an estranged father for 20 years calling me to look after him, try to get chummy with me, pay for the hospital bills, and make me responsible for him now because he was not able to figure out what to do with his self for the what 20-40 years of his life. My first reaction was to cut the call, and disconnect our phone lines, and to just totally erase whatever little memory I have of him. I am ruthless, and I don’t want to be hypocrite about it. I get so edgy with the thought that he rocked the little boat of comfort zone I am in.
I have 3 kids, a mother, and myself to attend to. I did not know where to place him in my life, and I had no plans of making a room for him.
I turned off my celphone, told the people in the house to say nothing about me when someone from my father’s side is looking for me. But my conscience is killing me, so I did go and meet them at the hospital — pahimutang and all — but was trying to be very distant from them. The first 2 days was all loathe for me. I was playing it all civil, and was only hoping for it to get over the soonest so my little boat of comfort zone will be back to normal. I was totally uncomfortable with this situation, being with people I have no idea who they are.
I will no longer mention one by one the details of the different ‘avoidance’ strategies in my mind because really that was what all in my mind for the 2 days. Thankfully, whoever prayed for the situation — my friends, my cousin, probably also my father — I finally realize that really it’s about time to look the monster eye to eye, and then every thing starts to fall into their places.
It ends positively. God loves me. It is a still long way to go, and there will be more pains to come. On my tatay side, it will take time for me to really be comfortable with him. And, thankfully, I believe he understands it. On my nanay, I still do not know how to bring it up with her. She does not know about it, and for now, I want to keep it that way. So for sure there will be more rock-the-boat moments to come, but at least I now have an idea how to handle it — it will be uncomfortable, there will be pain, but the only way to do it is face it upfront. If the monster push you, then head butt it.
My tatay is owkei. He has TB, and thankfully it is something cure-able. There is invented medicine for that. It is the emotional/spiritual part that you cannot buy any medicine for it, no cure invented for it except all that cheesy acceptance, forgiveness and moving on medicine, which unfortunately is not available in drugstores.
It’s a perfect 29th birthday gift. It was totally unexpected, something I am not ready to face but God’s presents are always like that — they shake you to the core, to get the better of you.
To all the prayers, thank you. And, also I have to thank my nanay that inspite of everything, I believe she was able to raise a monster-slayer daughter.
I can go on and on, but this will be the last. Really, there must be something done with how our health care system works.