My Last Eulogy

I know for a fact how hard it is for one to write a eulogy and I commend those who can bravely do this. I’ve done it once to a little boy I’ve known for just a very short period of time. But nevertheless, it brought back the pain as I typed each word on my keyboard. What more if it is for someone you’ve known all your life? Someone you see each day, whom you spent good times and bad? Someone, who most of the time, you regard as your hero?

I’m far from being perfect. Our family is also far from being ideal. And Daddy is not your typical father figure. He’s far from it actually. As a child growing up, I’ve been sharing Dad’s attention with politics. I remember him entertaining people in our balcony, mix of those who are seeking help and those who just want to share audience with him. Through him I get to have reality checks from time to time. But even if that was the case back then, I didn’t feel left out nor deprioritized. He spoiled me actually. Being the youngest and the only boy, I guess this was his method of compensating the time he spent outside rather than with me. And it was fine. I remember when my sister got her phone back, I just spent several hours tearing up before he decided to buy me my very first mobile phone. That would be the case for most of the time. He was a spoiler. And I grew up spoiled.

I’ve been hearing good things from my cousins as well. For being the second father to them, or to being their guardian whenever a parent leaves for work. I’m beaming with pride knowing how Dad played a significant role to the lives of my cousins, nieces, and nephews.

He was a fighter in all sense of the word. It’s no secret that he wasn’t able to finish his studies. But he, together with Nanay, was able to send all four of us to good schools. There’s no slowing down for him. Even as he reached the retirement age or when he was plagued with all these illnesses, he still finds ways to look after us. He wakes up early morning just to prepare our baon. He made sure that Sunday lunch will be served.

I can go on and on with all his good deeds to me and to everyone he knows. But I would just let his memories speak for them.

What I really want to say is Thank You Dad. As I’ve said, I may not be an ideal son. We may have arguments most of the time. I may have lost my patience easily. I may have answered you back or turned my back on you at times. I may have thrown hurtful words to you. But you still loved me for who I am, for who I was. No questions asked.

I’ve said this to you while you were sleeping in St. Luke’s and while you were at the ICU of San Juan Med. I’m sorry for all the things that I’ve done. I know it’s too late to correct those mistakes. But I know that you know in your heart how much I love you. We’ve been selfish the last 10 years, even until your last breath. But we only want you to find true happiness similar with what you’ve had with Nanay.

It was a long and tiring 3 years. You fought hard and you lost. Rest now Dad. You’re finally free from pain. And I’m praying hard that you are now at peace. It’s really difficult, the same emotions that we’ve felt when Nanay left 12 years ago. But I know that He has plans for all of us. Don’t worry about this family. I’m feeling that our bond got stronger the past 3 years. Don’t worry about your apos. We will show them love the same way that you loved all of them. Rest now Dad. In time, we will all be together. I LOVE YOU!