FEATURED ESSAY: Father's Day Special by Lou Ella King

"Good night, Pa. I love you." 

Those were the last five words I said to you the night before you left. I didn't know those were the last words you were going to hear from me.

The day you passed away was the day I used to remember vividly and now, everything seems so blurry. There were two things that I remember, though: one, waking up to the sound of people trying to wake you up, and two, Tita Myrna announcing that you left. 

The funeral was a blur, but I wouldn't forget my emotions on your last day. To be honest, I prayed to God to bring you back to life. Of course, that didn't happen. I wanted you back because I didn't say things I wanted to say. I didn't even get the chance to show my gratitude. And I wasn't ready.

Six years later, I’m here in front of the laptop screen, thinking about what my life would've been if you were here with me. I could see us watching WWE and laugh about the wrestlers. I could see you and Mom fight a lot because I know you would allow me to do anything and give me anything that I want. I could hear you saying, “Sino nagpaiyak sa iyo? Tara, patayin natin,” in your deep voice. Well, I heard you say it before and it only made me laugh since I was just a kid back then. Now I wish you were really alive to kill him. (I’m just kidding, Pa.) And I know you would be disappointed at my chosen course because I knew from the beginning you wanted me to take up medicine, but I know you would be proud of me anyway.  

And whenever I would feel down and think about how no one loves me anymore since you and Mom are finally together again, I always think about what Ate Aileen told me. She had a dream about you and Mom: you were scolding her because she didn’t fix whatever needs to be fixed before she left. And I smile whenever I thought about that because you still look after me.

I miss you Pa. I miss those days when I would make pizza and bake cookies just for you, where you would get mad at Mom when she reprimanded me (you never ever reprimanded me.), and those random afternoons where you would call me up from my room and say, “Nagpadeliver na ako ng pizza at chicken! Bumaba ka na diyan.” I miss waking up early to jog with you. I miss our goofiness – the Sarsi and water mix. I just really miss you.

Don’t worry Pa, I’ll stop all my vices – aka sleeping late, drinking coffee and (very occasionally) alcohol, and of course, procrastination. And I promise you, I will never smoke and do drugs.

I hope you and Mommy are proud of me up there. Wait for me, ah! I’ll just be good down here so that if I ever have to leave this cruel world, I’ll be with you guys up there. (I hope He will let me in.) I’ll always be your darling little princess and remember that I won’t give up.

Good night, Pa! I love you.