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It's been five years. Although I still get sad whenever I realize that you are no longer by my side. It is not the grief stricken sadness of three years ago but rather a sadness marked with poignant memories of you.
You'd be happy, dad. I could sit down on my piano again. For a while, it has pained me to play the piano without you listening in the background. Despite your limited understanding of my love for classical music, you always sat there whenever I would practice as if my scales were the most melodious music you've heard. I could play your favorite piece again. The piece that would earn me five hundred pesos everytime I play it for you such that your soldiers would always joke around that they would try to learn that particular piece too.
You'd be happy dad. I'm a doctor now. When you passed away, I was a struggling first year medical student barely passing my exams. I'm a doctor now and wished you were still here to put that cap and hood on me with mom. But I just kept that longing to myself since I felt it is unfair for mom who put me through medical school alone. I'm starting residency in a few days and I wish that you are here so that you could offer me your usual words of encouragement.
Remember when I was fetched from school and brought to a business meeting of yours? You just got the surprise of your life when that seven-year old me burst out to mom come dinnertime saying "akala mo dahil pinakain mo ako ng pansit di na ko magsusumbong kay mama na may kasama kang babae kanina."
Or how we would go on convoy whenever I would go to and from school just because you wanted me to learn to drive on my own but you weren't that confident yet that I would make it all the way from Pasay to Diliman?
Memories, I've got lots of them dad. Some would even be surprised that the military officer that they've known to be stern and strict is a gentle person at home. When I had you by my side, memories were nowhere, but three years after you said goodbye, all that's left are these memories to remember you by.
You'd be happy, dad. I could sit down on my piano again. For a while, it has pained me to play the piano without you listening in the background. Despite your limited understanding of my love for classical music, you always sat there whenever I would practice as if my scales were the most melodious music you've heard. I could play your favorite piece again. The piece that would earn me five hundred pesos everytime I play it for you such that your soldiers would always joke around that they would try to learn that particular piece too.
You'd be happy dad. I'm a doctor now. When you passed away, I was a struggling first year medical student barely passing my exams. I'm a doctor now and wished you were still here to put that cap and hood on me with mom. But I just kept that longing to myself since I felt it is unfair for mom who put me through medical school alone. I'm starting residency in a few days and I wish that you are here so that you could offer me your usual words of encouragement.
Remember when I was fetched from school and brought to a business meeting of yours? You just got the surprise of your life when that seven-year old me burst out to mom come dinnertime saying "akala mo dahil pinakain mo ako ng pansit di na ko magsusumbong kay mama na may kasama kang babae kanina."
Or how we would go on convoy whenever I would go to and from school just because you wanted me to learn to drive on my own but you weren't that confident yet that I would make it all the way from Pasay to Diliman?
Memories, I've got lots of them dad. Some would even be surprised that the military officer that they've known to be stern and strict is a gentle person at home. When I had you by my side, memories were nowhere, but three years after you said goodbye, all that's left are these memories to remember you by.
