FINALLY it was over with, Father’s Day that is. We lost our father on the very first month of this year and somehow, celebrating this special occasion without him for the first time, just felt a bit strange for me. As we settled into our Sunday chores in spite of the usual merriment and greetings around us, a certain detachment that was almost like watching a party from the other side of the fence played in a loop (with soundtrack) in my mind.
In case one misunderstood, this dampened feel of mine had nothing at all to do with everyone’s celebration and view of Father’s Day. As a matter of fact, I feel genuinely happy for all the fathers out there, especially those in our clan who had just become first-time dads. I remember a friend in Australia who said that in his own large family, his brothers would greet their newbie dad siblings with cupcakes that had notes attached with ‘welcome to the torture.’ All for the fun of it of course, but aIso a poke nonetheless towards the obvious trials around being a dad.
Yet for me personally, I just felt that a silent greeting was enough, unspoken even like a prayer, directed with all sincerity solely to our old man who was gone forever. We likewise decided early we needn’t go to the main house in Bajada anymore because we dreaded a clogged street full of vehicles would spoil our day, caused be Mayor Sara’s inauguration into the VP. So, Sunday chores and laundry it was. And lots of “happy Father’s Day” online.
I remember when Pops was alive, Father’s Day Sundays, just as with other tribes, were always the bolt-in time for the clan. When he was stronger, a lot of activities punctuated the day and when Mamapin was still around, mahjongg had been the main course until the evening. As the years went by, we found our attendance dwindling, and a little at a time, he retreated to his room to rest his weary frame while we enjoyed what was left of the afternoon. This first time without him, I don’t know about the others, but the main house where Popsie had lived, where most of us spent our childhood, where countless feasts and get-togethers reverberated with laughter and merriment, now just have residues of memories celebrating within its walls.
Next year, beyond Christmas and other celebrations still to come, while we welcome the entry of more little feet to grace the family lawn, we might again celebrate the events that bolt us together as we did many times before. He would have been very happy to welcome them babies now running rugrats. Understandably, with the comings and goings and the old welcoming the new, each celebration, be it Father’s Day or not, will surely bring along little changes. Still, all those in the clan who are still present then will be one in the thought that, despite everything, we endure.
