Papa

14th of August.....

Papa flew back home to Manila after 9 months of staying in New Zealand. That's 3 seasons excluding spring; several sightseeing trips in, around and outside of Auckland; a once in every 12 years experience of witnessing The All Blacks beat the Lions (he's acquired taste for rugby... as you do here); a handful of good live theatre; innumerable crossword puzzles; nearly 300 days and nights of catching up with me and bonding with Edwin and Cerise; more than a dozen pieces of wooden furniture created from scratch by his own hands including shoe cabinets, DVD/CD cabinet, side table, laundry bin, remote control holder, condiments holder, jewellery box, etc... all built for the purpose of diminishing our everyday clutter.

The scene at the airport wasn't as emotional as it was when I sent my mother back home in 2003. I guess it's because I spent my growing years waving goodbye to my father, a retired seaman, too many times that it's almost like my mind and heart have been conditioned to be okay with that, or at least to keep it together. If there was one who was emotional, it was little Cerise. So heartbreaking to watch her sob quietly for half an hour and then hysterically for the next half an hour. She pulled herself together only after being told she would see Papa in January and in the meantime, he would make her a playground in Manila complete with a tree house and a swing. I should probably tell her now not to hold her breath for that but I'll deal with the consequences of my exaggeration later. She misses Papa terribly. In fact tonight, at dinner, she pretended that Papa was around and said "Papa, time to eat!"

The first two days since Papa left were the most difficult because I was feeling the pangs of emptiness and just the absence of someone you've gotten used to having around. I don't remember spending this much time with him before! After work last Monday, I picked up the paper on my way out of the building, stopped and realised I no longer had to bring home the newspaper for Papa! I put the newspaper down, saddened. I was also reminded of how I felt days after my mother flew out of NZ and weeks after I came back from visiting my sister in Chicago last year.

Here is a photo I took of Papa (in black and brown clothing and wearing a cap) on his way to his gate. The next down shows Cerise posing with gusto. We would have watched his plane take off but his flight was delayed for another hour and we were just not up to waiting.