Missing him...

It's been almost 2 mos. since my father passed away.  I still miss him.  I still feel guilty because I could not care for him as much.  I was too busy with my life.  I thought I still had time.   I never thought his passing would be swift.  I thought we had more time than that.    I just applied for my FMLA leave the day before he passed.  I was hoping that he would somehow make it to Christmas 2011.  I think he believed he would make it to Christmas too.  I am haunted by the look in his eyes the last time he was conscious.  His pupils were dilated from anxiety.  He was fish out of water.   The hospice nurse (and I) believed he had a pulmonary embolism, which caused labored breathing and rapid decline. 

I feel tears swelling up my lower lids every time I pass their apartment and places that remind me of him.  My heart stops whenever my baby mentions the word "tatay," which he does every time we visit the apartment my father shared with my mother, who still lives there. 

My grief is still fresh and raw.

Our complex parent-child relationship is dysfunctional at best and hostile at its worst.  However, since Tatay passed, I remember the good times, the good Tatay (Filipino for father).  I think of his sacrifices and hard work so we could have a good education and life.  The thing that I will never forget is how his hands looked.  I remember his fingers getting crooked as he aged from arthritis and decades of menial jobs.    He told me to cut my homemade soap smaller as he had difficulty holding it.  When he died, that was the only part of his body that did not really change.  He lost a lot of weight.  His muscles atrophied.  His skin was discolored and pale.   He lost his hair.   But his hands remained the same, immortalizing in my memory his life of hard work and sacrifices for his family.

It is difficult to lose a parent, no matter how imperfect the relationship is.  I prefer him alive, and I know my life was better when he was just 11 miles away.  I love you, Tatay...  Thanks for everything.

P.S.  Despite the breathing difficulty at the end, my father passed away peacefully in Hospice.  He was given meds to slow down his breathing and relieve his pain and anxiety.