Daddy and I don’t have a decent photo together. It was mostly him and my Kuya because I sincerely believed he loved his first born so much. Mommy said that when Kuya was born, Daddy was a fine man that had too much dreams for his family. It changed when I came. I can’t remember a single childhood memory with him. He was always away; He was always far. He never played with me. He never took me out on a date. For most of my life, he was a stranger. To say it simply, I never really grew up with a Daddy. Although he was just there, he really wasn’t.
For friends and family who have known me for a while, it is danger zone to talk about my Daddy. It was because I hated him and I didn’t love him. I hated him for what he has done and for what he allowed me to become because of it. I refused to believe in family and in love. It was because Daddy took them away from me. He didn’t love me enough to make me believe in life. There came a time when there was nothing else I wanted but to be completely far away from him. I completely cut off my communication with him. I only knew him when I needed something. Seeing him was a nightmare not only because I was mad but because I was also scared. Daddy was a different person, he was undesirable. I wanted to live in a different world because of the pain. I wished for another life. I wished for another Daddy.
Fast forward to 2013, he wanted to come back to us. We didn’t allow it. He was sick then, but living with him again wasn’t an option for us or at least for me. I was firm in my decision to never be with him again. That firmness enveloped me in guilt when news came that he had passed. I didn’t give him a chance to say sorry even though I was given one. I didn’t talk to him even if during his last moments, it was his only wish. I regret it and I am sorry, Daddy.
Suddenly all the bad memories played again but all I wanted was to forget them. All I wanted was to let him know that I am sorry I didn’t get to talk to him. Sorry for not forgiving him when he can still hear it. Because I regret it… And really, nothing beats the pain of words left unsaid. I wish I had been a good daughter because after all, he was still my Daddy. I wished I was one. But no more. I can’t be that. I can only tell him in my prayers that he’s forgiven and that I hope he lives a happy life with the Lord. I question him sometimes still, why he did what he did, but it doesn’t matter anymore.
His passing gave me, Mommy and Kuya the peace of mind we’ve always wanted in a long time. We’ve forgiven. We feel lighter. We were able to start again. I can only wish that you are happy in heaven now, Daddy. Even if it’s too late, I’d like to say I’m sorry… This I say because I am still your daughter and you are still my Daddy. Have a great journey ahead.