There are stories we carry quietly in our hearts — the ones filled with love that was never spoken again, apologies whispered too late, and memories that linger even after goodbye. This is one of those stories. It’s about a father and daughter whose paths drifted apart, whose words were left unsaid, and whose love despite distance, silence, and time never truly faded. Because in the end, no matter what happened, love stayed.
It’s really all a blur.
I knew Tatay was sick as early as April this year. But even as a child, about twenty years ago, I already knew he had maintenance medications for high cholesterol, high blood pressure, something for the liver, and sometimes for gout.
Our relationship had always been complicated. In 2012, my parents separated, and since then, things have been hard. It eventually reached a point where Tatay and I were no longer speaking. In fact, we weren’t speaking at all until the time of his death.
In my heart of hearts, I always believed that somehow, someday, we would patch things up. I thought there would come a time when both of us would finally be ready to talk again, that somehow, everything would be alright. I’ve always dreamed that it would be him who would walk me down the aisle. Unfortunately, that’s never going to happen now.
He made his choices, and somehow, I made mine too. I found peace or maybe I just learned to live without him by my side. That became my normal. From time to time, I’d hear news about him, but it never really crossed my mind to reach out. I was hurt, confused, and afraid to feel the pain again. I convinced myself that maybe someday everything would align, that our paths would cross again and things would finally be okay. But that day never came.
The last time I saw Tatay was on September 21 only through the glass of a hospital room. He was under heavy medication, and I could tell he was in pain as I looked on from that glass panel. I left that day hoping and praying that he would be alright. I prayed that he’d get better, enough for us to finally talk and make things right. I prayed hard.
But the unimaginable happened on October 1. I received a phone call that shattered my heart and made me cry like I never had before. It’s true, isn’t it? No matter the distance, no matter the time — love doesn’t go away. It’s just there. It never left. We just learned to love silently from afar.
It’s still a blur. Nothing much has changed in my daily life, since Tatay hadn’t really been a part of it for years. But I changed. The circumstances changed — because now, there’s no more hope that we’ll ever patch things up.
As I broke down on the hospital floor beside his bed, apologizing for the things I’d done, telling him that we were okay now, that I had forgiven him. I couldn’t help but think that I was too late. There are so many what ifs. I don’t even know if what I feel is regret. But in my quiet moments, I talk to him. I tell him the things I never got to say.
It’s true, isn’t it? When you lose someone, all that remains is love. No matter the circumstance — love stays.
I knew Tatay also watched me from afar. He knew about the things that I did, and in his own quiet ways, he looked after me in ways I did not know, and may never fully know. I know he cared. Maybe life just had other plans for us. Maybe there’s a reason why he was taken away when he was.
I hope and pray that Tatay also forgave me. I hope he knew that I loved him. I just didn’t know how to show it. I never imagined that it would end this way. I love you, Tatay.
I am forever grateful to my Tatay for giving me life. Believe it or not, he had such a huge impact on me. He was the one who always pushed me to be my best, the one who first told me he wanted me to be a lawyer. My childhood was beautiful because he was in it.
To whoever is reading this, cherish your family. Cherish your father. Cherish your loved ones. Life is indeed too short. And if I could have one more dance with Tatay, I would take it in a heartbeat.
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