When Sam Was Around

Unless Mama is here, I tend to wake up at around noon every Sunday. By then, I've already missed about three to four chances of going to church to hear mass. There's always the scheduled masses in the afternoon but by then, the masses get all sleepy.

My sister and I went to our tita's house for lunch. It's an every Sunday thing we do to keep her company. At her age, it probably gets lonely often, especially after our other tita with whom she had always been with passed away last February. While I was thinking about how messed up my life was, particularly with academics, I was browsing through the bookshelves. I found a very familiar book and took it out. It was a book given to me by one of my titas (yes, I have a lot of titas) when Papa died back in 1999. When Someone Dies by Sharon Greenlee. The book was still in good condition; the pages smelled like the book was still brand new. I began reading and remembered vivid fragments of my younger self and how our family used to be when he was still around. I miss him. Nobody else I know could top how he listened and understood me when I was troubled. I read something in the book that goes something like, "Sometimes it helps if you write the person a letter." Something like that. So here goes:

Dear Papa,
     It's been a while. So many things have happened in your absence. I would love to tell you everything but I guess you already know so much since you're probably watching over us since then. No words can express how much we need you right now, especially Mama. We get by. From time to time I would remember how Mama would tell me what you used to tell her, "Malayo ang maabot niya, Mama. Mas malayo pa sa akin." It actually pains me to remember that because right now it seems I've let you down. I don't know what to do with my life anymore. Please forgive me for bothering you. You're supposed to be resting and here I am yapping about my problems. On a lighter note, I dream of you. Rarely. Those dreams come and go, and are a bit blurry sometimes. Are you trying to tell me something? Or is it just me wanting you to be still alive today? I can't promise you anything right now but to keep on being a good son to Mama. Wherever you are, I hope you're doing fine.

With much love,
your (still) little boy




[note: the title was taken from the photo album my tita made for our family when Papa died. Wherever that photo album is, we want it back badly. I want it back badly.]