I Am Here PAPANG, I Love You STILL

doorHe was your ideal man. He was a highly paid officer in an insurance company. He was a black belter, and was a very intelligent man. These qualities won him my mother’s heart - my elegant, fair, and tender mother. He lived a great life.

Vows were exchanged in front of God’s altar, and they cherished that moment dearly. Three lovely angels came into their lives, and they all lived lives showered with love and care. They were a happy family.

Then one day, worldly desire crept into his heart, gradually nurturing the secret admiration he had for that fresh, young, lovely office worker; he enjoyed the sight.

The family was in peril, dramatic changes were slowly felt. He had a new favorite song titled “Please Release Me.” He often went home drunk, with a lady’s shirt kept in his waist bag. Affection eluded him, and the little angels often gaped with innocent eyes.

December 1990, Christmas. He asked permission to go out somewhere, said it was very important, and will soon be back. Mother waited for hours, ‘till Christmas Eve, ‘till New Year’s Eve; she waited like forever for the man who had never come back. She searched for him, almost begging from his officemates for any information about him; she was told he left with a woman, his officemate. She got depressed but decided to go on searching; until a cousin of hers offered to avenge her, bought a gun and a bullet, just a bullet, for his sure death. NO! She didn’t wish him dead.

I was the youngest, a four-year-old little girl at that time, and now I’m 26. I didn’t know it happened. Stories were told by my mother (seldom) and my sister (she witnessed and understood everything); I didn’t feel any hurt. Yes, I never did, for 2 years after that tragic event came the father whom God really intended for us to grow up with. So, we still lived a blissful life.

“I still love you Papang.” Why this?

Let me say this slowly, “He…came…back!” Yes, he did. When? He appeared abruptly seventeen years after that event, but what surprised me was the physical state that he was in at the moment, far from the tall (approximately 6 feet), athletic, strong guy. He stood in front of me barely 5 feet tall. Unbelievable! But why?

“I lost my excellent health, but I didn’t ask God why,” was all he said, smiling at me and looking straight into my eyes.

I scampered to my room, and I cried bitterly. When I went down, I was ready to face him. He was especially looking for me for I am the youngest, whom he adores dearly. (I am wiping my tears now.)

That was the first meeting. He came back, this time with my half-brother (half-Chinese). More smiles and warm greetings filled the air, as if nothing dark befell us before. That was a happy meeting.

“I love you Papang.” These words I often text him now. Why?

He is a man inflicted with numerous diseases. The latest I heard was the gradual deformation of his body “leading to bone cancer”, according to his doctor as told by him. It was painful to hear, and I just couldn’t stop myself from telling him that I love him, that we love him, and that we are happy to have met him again.

“I am ready. I never questioned God. This is what I get from all the wrongs I’ve done to you. I devastated my first family’s heart, yet they are still so kind, and they accepted me without contempt. I am happy now. And I am ready.”

He sent me that message during the Father’s Day celebration.

“I love you Papang.”

I really want to go his place, hug him tight, and whisper my forgiveness to him. (Yes. No. More tears). It’s too painful for I still don’t have the courage to do it. His end is near.

How will I sweeten the remaining moments of his life?

“I am here, Papang. I love you STILL.”

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