5 THINGS I’VE LEARNED FROM MY FATHER’S SUDDEN DEATH

It was the night after a long weekend (Holy Week) when all my bags were packed and ready to leave for work the next day; but for some reason, I didn’t feel like going. That same night, at around 11 PM, we were awakened by a call from my Ninong who told us that Tatay was in the hospital, and we needed to go immediately to sign some papers. We shrugged off the possibility that it was serious while on our way. Maybe, we just need to sign a waiver, a discharge order, or whatever. However, we learned that he was comatosed upon arriving. They put him in a catheter after he peed on his shorts. He was intubated as he was out of breath. It took only a few hours until he was declared dead from severe hypertension.

The only thing I wished at that time was to be awakened from that nightmare. The pain was unbearable and was even more agonizing whenever I saw my grieving family. As the eldest, I was promoted to being the head of the family with whom they anchor strength. Showing my vulnerability to them felt like there would be a domino effect, so I only cried when I’m alone. I acted unbothered most of the time but deep inside, the feeling of loss was excruciating.

Life was never the same when Tatay left us. There were lots of “what ifs” and “I wish.” After 11 years, the pain is still the same contrary to what elders say: “pain will lessen as time passes by.” I realized there is only acceptance. The feeling of loss kicks in whenever there are special occasions and family gatherings. It is present whenever any of the members of our family reach a certain milestone or gain an achievement wherein it feels lacking, if not empty, to be celebrating it without their presence. One example was walking my siblings and I in the aisle during our wedding day. We also remember our Tatay whenever we buy something that he likes, such as an electric fan and refrigerator which we didn’t have when he was still with us. Sometimes, we avoid the pain by abstaining from something he likes. For example, it took us a while to cook and eat paksiw na bangus and fishball again because those were his favorites. It hurts to be cooking and eating those foods without him.

Aside from memories and life lessons l’ve shared with him, his sudden death taught me of the following:

1. It taught me that no matter how bad your relationship with the deceased member of your family is-particularly your parents-you will still grieve. In fact, you will regret the things you said and did to that person, and things you ought to say and do but have neglected. Tatay and I may not have that kind of great father-daughter relationship, but I know that he will be forever in my heart – and there’s a huge hole in it that only he can fill.
2. It taught me that you will never forget those people who showed up and gave you time and support in one of the most difficult times of your life. Somehow, you will despise those people you expect would be there but weren’t.
3. It taught me to number my days with the people I love and people who matter most.
4. I fell in love with taking selfies and groufies with my family, relatives, and friends, because who knows when will be my last interaction with them. As for my family, I see to it that we take as many family pictures as we can, we celebrate our individual birthdays, and take vacations or eat outside whenever we can.
5. It taught me to live as if I am dying tomorrow. I wrote my last will and testament when Tatay died to save my family from a storm of anxiety brought upon by my death. I want them to know how much I love them and I also put details on how I want to do my own funeral. Inside it is a Google Drive link where my social media, bank, insurance, and government-related account credentials are detailed for them to use as they see fit.
6. It taught me to become a minimalist. I only buy things when needed. I believe it would give my family a breeze of relief because there would be little to no things to be taken care of when I die.

Life is indeed short, and death is truly certain. Being young nowadays doesn’t automatically mean they will live longer. I wish to share these things so that we will start to normalize honoring a living person, forgive and apologize to someone you’ve hurt or have hurted you, fulfill someone’s request or favor whenever you can, and make memories as much as you can with the people you love and who matter most.

I hope that these five (5) things will serve as a reminder, if not immediate action, to save you from future pain and regrets.