Remembering My Father

My father died 28 years ago today. This year would have been his 70th birthday. I don't have much recollection of him except for those times when I went with him in some of his visits to friends outside town. There were also those moments where he would play his guitar as we sang along with my siblings. Besides these, all of my memories about him are probably products of my imagination and wishful thinking.

I feel that there are so many things we never got to do. So many conversations we never got through. It was difficult growing up so how I'd wish he was there to guide me through.

They say that when one dies, his/her soul flies away. Wishfully, I want to chase my father's soul, so that even if it's just for a day , we can spend time together again. I want to tell him now that his death taught me how to stand on my own. Many times I felt as though I can’t do it without him. I tried so hard to see things through and become the person he wanted me to be. Really, I'd give anything if I could just talk to him once more, to see him walk through our door and tell me that everything was going to be alright for sure!

Sometimes, when I look into the sky, I picture him staring down, which is why I have no reason to frown.

Now he is gliding under God’s precious wings. I hope God’s taking good care of him because now he is in His place. I hope all his worries and all his fears before he left is gone.

I never got so say goodbye to him because he died in the city while we were waiting for him in the province. That was the worst part. But I know that when he left secretly he said goodbye to my heart. So when I lay myself into bed every night, I know he'll always be there to hold me tight.

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