I was doing laundry last night and I was waiting for the washer to get done, so I walked around in circles downstairs. I was standing in the dining room for who knows what reason. I remember the first time I ever set foot in this house. New Years Eve. I remember left over Christmas cookies. Brand new couches. It was night time and the living room was HUGE and empty. The piano, of course. The piano. The little lamp you spent time finding. Teaching me how to play “happy birthday” by tapping the key I should press next.
The dining room table. I was standing right next to where you use to sit when you’d tell me to take my medicine. I can still see you sitting in the chair and me standing in front of you, leaning on the table. A small clear club with pink cough surup between us. It always took me forever to take medicine. You knew I hated taking medicine! But you were always so patient with me. Always. I always asked you not to watch me cause it made me nervous so one day you made up a game. You’d turn around, close your eyes and count to three. Then turn back around and by then it should be gone. I wish you were here. I still hate medicine. I still play that game pretending you’re here. That was 19 years ago.
The couch, the kitchen, the tv in the family room. “I want my ramen with a lottt of rice!” while watching Return to Oz when I probably should had been sleeping. Martin attempts to make it the way you do, because he knows it’ll make me happy. And I appreciate it, but I miss the way you made it. In memory of you, this year. I’m going to see Wicked.
I remember your tape recorder and the pouch you made for it. It was green and it had a string that you pulled and it would scrunch closed. I remember you telling me to talk to it when you first got it and I remember you recording yourself playing the piano. I remember your ring! Your gold ring, the flat front side with the black gem in front and the calligraphy S in the middle. I remember asking you if you ever have trouble taking it off since I could never pull it off and you always showed me the soap trick. I asked you a lot of silly questions. And I bothered you endlessly, but you never seemed to mind.
You’re probably standing next to me right now. Dont worry, I’m not crying cause I’m sad. I’m crying because I miss you. Now that I’m older, there’s so much more I want to know. So many more questions I want to ask. Martin would had loved to had met you. And I would had loved for you to had met him, here. In our time. I wish you were here to see all the crafty things I try to do everyday. I know you’d be proud. I know you’d encourage me and tell me not to give up. You always did, whenever I wanted to give up. Maybe its better you’re not here anymore, things changed when you left.
I remember sitting on your lap, in the living room of my mom’s old house in the Philippines. Before we left for the airport. I remember saying “you’re not coming home?” and you said “I will, later. I’m going to stay a little longer.”
I still remember our last conversation over the phone. You never came home. I had a feeling it would be our last. I couldnt tell you that I was sorry for all the times I said I hated you when I was angry. I couldnt tell you I missed you and I just wanted you to come home already. I told you about my science project. The first one I had to do without your help. “Good job. I knew you could do it”.
I remember the phone call. And my mom busting into tears. I remember running up to my room and crying. I didnt have to ask what happened.
The last time I was at your grave I promised I’d come back after high school. I’m sorry I havent. Its not completely on purpose. Airplanes are painful for me, I’m sure you’ve seen. It shouldnt had stopped me from coming back. Thank you for telling me in my dream the last time not to worry about it and to focus on school. Mama said it sounded like something you’d say if you were still here. I do feel bad about it, I know you probably dont want me to, sorry. I’ll be coming back soon though, I want you to meet Martin. I’m sure you already have, but you know, can I introduce you this time? If that was you.
Happy Birthday Lolo. I love you. I miss you. I’ll try not to cry the rest of the day, but no promises.
I was doing laundry last night and I was waiting for the washer to get done, so I walked around in circles downstairs. I was standing in the dining room for who knows what reason. I remember the first time I ever set foot in this house. New Years Eve. I remember left over Christmas cookies. Brand new couches. It was night time and the living room was HUGE and empty. The piano, of course. The piano. The little lamp you spent time finding. Teaching me how to play “happy birthday” by tapping the key I should press next.
The dining room table. I was standing right next to where you use to sit when you’d tell me to take my medicine. I can still see you sitting in the chair and me standing in front of you, leaning on the table. A small clear cup with pink cough syrup between us. It always took me forever to take medicine. You knew I hated taking medicine! But you were always so patient with me. Always. I always asked you not to watch me cause it made me nervous so one day you made up a game. You’d turn around, close your eyes and count to three. Then turn back around and by then it should be gone. I wish you were here. I still hate medicine. I still play that game pretending you’re here. That was 19 years ago.
The couch, the kitchen, the tv in the family room. “I want my ramen with a lottt of rice!” while watching Return to Oz when I probably should had been sleeping. Martin attempts to make it the way you do, because he knows it’ll make me happy. And I appreciate it, but I miss the way you made it. In memory of you, this year. I’m going to see Wicked.
I remember your tape recorder and the pouch you made for it. It was green and it had a string that you pulled and it would scrunch closed. I remember you telling me to talk to it when you first got it and I remember you recording yourself playing the piano. I remember your ring! Your gold ring, the flat front side with the black gem in front and the calligraphy S in the middle. I remember asking you if you ever have trouble taking it off since I could never pull it off and you always showed me the soap trick. I asked you a lot of silly questions. And I bothered you endlessly, but you never seemed to mind.
You’re probably standing next to me right now. Dont worry, I’m not crying cause I’m sad. I’m crying because I miss you. Now that I’m older, there’s so much more I want to know. So many more questions I want to ask. Martin would had loved to had met you. And I would had loved for you to had met him, here. In our time. I wish you were here to see all the crafty things I try to do everyday. I know you’d be proud. I know you’d encourage me and tell me not to give up. You always did, whenever I wanted to give up. Maybe its better you’re not here anymore, things changed when you left.
I remember sitting on your lap, in the living room of my mom’s old house in the Philippines. Before we left for the airport. I remember saying “you’re not coming home?” and you said “I will, later. I’m going to stay a little longer.”
I still remember our last conversation over the phone. You never came home. I had a feeling it would be our last. I couldnt tell you that I was sorry for all the times I said I hated you when I was angry. I couldnt tell you I missed you and I just wanted you to come home already. I told you about my science project. The first one I had to do without your help. “Good job. I knew you could do it”.
I remember the phone call. And my mom busting into tears. I remember running up to my room and crying. I didnt have to ask what happened.
The last time I was at your grave I promised I’d come back after high school. I’m sorry I havent. Its not completely on purpose. Airplanes are painful for me, I’m sure you’ve seen. It shouldnt had stopped me from coming back. Thank you for telling me in my dream the last time not to worry about it and to focus on school. Mama said it sounded like something you’d say if you were still here. I do feel bad about it, I know you probably dont want me to, sorry. I’ll be coming back soon though, I want you to meet Martin. I’m sure you already have, but you know, can I introduce you this time? If that was you.
Happy Birthday Lolo. I love you. I miss you. I’ll try not to cry the rest of the day, but no promises.
