Sunday, August 10, 2008

Letter to Papa

A lot of you may know that my father passed away last Saturday, August 2 at the age of 66. His official report indicated cardiopulmonary arrest as the primary cause of death. He had been battling colon cancer, prostate problems and partial stroke for more than 2 years now.

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Papa, I'm sorry that I'm the last one to cry. I just remembered feeling so bewildered and confused in the emergency room - I didn't even realize that you had already left us. I thought you looked so peaceful and not in pain anymore. Everything just seemed so surreal and so hazy.

I just concentrated on what needs to be done. I remembered crying while filling out the death certificate. Did you know that the form is colored blue? I never knew that until last Saturday.

Since you weren't vocal about what arrangements you wanted and we never asked, we took the decision into our own hands. We thought of what place would befit you the most. We finally decided on one of the newer funeral homes that has an excellent reputation of customer service and cleanliness. Despite the higher cost, we never regretted the decision to have the wake at Sanctuarium.

Papa, we heard that there might be some unnecessary removal of organs during the embalming process, so somebody had to watch over the whole thing. Can you believe I actually volunteered to supervise the embalming process? Me, the scarediest cat in the whole family! You know how easily spooked I am on those things. I can't even keep the dolls I received during Christmas after watching Chucky, for goodness' sake. But I have to say, it's not gross if it's you. I was just surprised when the embalmers turned you over - I never realized how stiff a body would get. Think Dilbert's square-faced friend, Asok.

Papa, you would've been exasperated with the series of choices, choices and choices we had to make. What color of casket. What type of urn to use. How big a room. Catholic or Buddhist. What clothes to wear. Cremation or burial. What day and time for cremation. Where to bury... I still wonder if this is intentional - so that we will spend our time thinking about these logistical issues and not dwell on the pain of losing you. We just chose what we think you'll like best. Do you like them? I hope you do.

Papa, you might see me put up a brave front and still look cheerful and even giggly at times. It's not that I'm happy. I just prefer to grieve in private. Contrary to traditional Chinese customs of crying ladies, I do not want the whole world to know how much in pain I really am. This is also exactly how I coped when my marriage fell apart. I try to smile even though I'm crying inside... and eventually, my smile becomes a real smile. I'm sure you of all people know that about me.

Papa, did you see the memorabilia stand we put up for you? Do you like it? We remembered to get your favorite bowling shoes and bowling ball, your bowling shirts (one club shirt for each day of the week!), your Rotary Club vest and your Coast Guard uniform. We even amassed all the pics we had of you and showed to the world what great memories we had of you. I hope we didn't miss anything.

Papa, did you see how many people came over to pay their respects? I never knew you were in cahoots with congressmen, senators, judges and fiscals! The whole fire brigade came over. Even the board of directors of Rotary Club of Paco and Mama's batch mates arrived by the dozen. Actually, my hands hurt from shaking everybody's hands. I just kept thinking that the line seemed endless.

Everybody had only nice things to say about you. They spoke about how generous you are. They also mentioned how much of a team player you are. I'm soooo proud to be your daughter.

Papa, Ralph misses you so much. Did you see how loudly he cried and shouted your name when you were being cremated? Every night he asks me when he will see you again.

Papa, where are you now? Can you hear us? Are you reunited with Angkong and Ama? Will you watch over us?

Please guide us and give us strength to go on. Please also let Mama know that you are finally at peace so that she won't be too sad. You are... I mean, were in so much pain for the past 2 years; I'm just glad you're not suffering anymore.

Papa, we miss you lots and lots. Rest in peace.

Remember

Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you planned:

Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad.