Why I didn't post yesterday

1) I wasn't in the mood
2) Shela used this laptop
3) I was OC with the concept execution
4) I was thinking about too many things, and I just didn't wanna write them down
5) It was my Dad's 7th death anniversary yesterday, and for some reason, I felt a bit low as if time warped and I was back to where I was, what I felt and how I reacted to the news 7 years ago.

Basically, I was merely avoiding all the emotions that can trap me throughout the day. Too many flashbacks. I still remember everything, every little detail vividly. After playing handball, an admin staff rushed to the classroom saying that there was someone who called from home, because there was an emergency. Something happened to my Dad. I couldn't help but cry. My classmates even helped me pack my things. He already had a heart attack months ago. He was just recuperatinng from a quadruple by pass operation. What could have gone wrong?

My brother and his friends picked me up in Woodrose, and I still can't stop crying. My brother (Kuya Allan) sat quietly beside me. I kept on wondering why he isn't driving and why we're not going to Makati. (He was confined in Makati Med months ago). I kept asking where my Dad was. But I didn't get a reply. The suspense even made me weep more. So many thoughts entered my mind, of course.

When we got home, the gates of the house were open. Some of my relatives were standing outside, staring at me. No one was saying anything. Once I entered the house, my brothers immediately pulled me into a room, and closed the door. Kuya Mark (eldest bro) relayed the news. "Patay na si Papa", he uttered. "Bakit?Anong nangyari?" That's all i could say. Then the drama began. I cried in my plaid uniform. My brothers cried with me. I told them not to leave me ever. (But of course, they did when they got married, and when Kuya Allan passed away. But that's another mellodramatic story)

After the tearful breakdown, I went to my room and wrote a letter to my Dad. I pulled out one of those binder sheets and used crayons I think. I just bade my last farewell in writing. And to further distract myself, I studied for Filipino ,and tried memorizing characters of a novel. He was still in the morgue then. What else am I supposed to do? I couldn't cry anymore. Everything was surreal. I still couldn't belive it. What is death? How do people die? What happens when they die? Why do loved ones have to die? Why does it hurt so much?

I fell asleep while waiting for his corpse. When a classmate called the house, I told her my Dad was okay. When a neighbor asked what was happening, I said everything's fine. For some reason, I didn't want them to know what was happening. I guess I didn't want people to feel sorrow. I didn't want to share our pain with them, because it was ours. They should just go on with their own lives. But I was wrong. It doesn't work that way.

When my Dad arrived, I was still in shock, and I was extremely frightened. He lay still in a coffin, lifeless and cold. My brothers said, "Magmano ka" Oh my. But then I did. I couldn't get his hand because his arm couldn't move anymore. I was actually freaked out by this time. He was really hard. And I mean hard.
So that's what happens when people die.

And this is what happens to the ones they leave. They still continue writing about it, but this time, without all the gushing tears and overwhelming melancholy.

Grief never ends. But it is more important to cherish the moments when they were still alive, rather than sulking over the day they passed away.

But then again, I miss him. And I can never forget that 3rd day of November, exactly 7 years ago.