WARNING: Very personal letter. Not in a funny mood. Let’s joke around next week.
I woke up just before 6am Friday (Philippine Time). I walked into my Dad’s room and his caretaker and his house help were huddled around him in disbelief. The house help mumbled something that I didn’t understand but when I saw Dad’s lifeless body, I knew what she was trying to say. I reached for his chest. He was no longer breathing. His heart had stopped beating. Dad had passed on to eternity. Both of them looked at me for instructions. I knew there was a lot of work ahead.
I had rehearsed going through this moment ever since I arrived here over 2 weeks ago. And now that it’s here, it’s a little different. I started to go through the checklist in my head: First, have a video conference with my sisters, then inform the Kapitan Del Barrio (the Barrio Captain), get the doctor’s death certificate, inform the city registrar, inform the funeral home, get a priest, inform the cemetery, wrap up his finances, inform the relatives, etc. It’s the end of the long day and I still need to make arrangements tomorrow. My surviving sisters are giving me advice and moral support but they can’t come so I’m doing this with the help of the people around me.
I have not shed a tear yet. I think it’s the Adrenalin that put my emotions aside. I remember that this also happened when my Mom passed away. It was months later that I found myself sobbing uncontrollably. “I’ll weep for you Dad, but today is not the day. Today, I have to make sure you have a good final goodbye.”
I appreciate all the kind thoughts and prayers. There are a lot of you. And for that, my father and I are truly blessed. TGIF people!
“I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.”
—- John 11:25-26