papa talk

i spoke to my mama for my regular sunday phone call with her. she told me that she and the rest of the family went to the cemetery to visit Papa's grave.

it pinched me. because God, how i wish i was with them.

my father died in January 2007,just after a great christmas holiday we spent with him, and after a promise that he was coming to visit me here in England.

but of course, he never ever had the chance to visit me. (which makes me sad). after we organised for the long arduous process of his passport, he died.

but not to dwell on my sadness, my father is a pinch in my chest. he is.

he was my first hero, and he could do no wrong in my eyes. even if he died no matter what age, whether at 100 years old, or his 57 years, he would still be a pinch in my chest to talk about and remember. people we love, we always wish and somehow mentally bestow immortality on them.

in my life as a blogger since 2004, i have spoken of my love of my father since i could remember although not solely, oftentimes my blogs are peppered with narration of adoration for the first man who had my heart.

he was and still is a pinch in my heart because apart from everything else, he was my driving force to everything i did in my life. i sought his approval for everything, from clothes, boyfriends (not that i heeded, but i sought his nod like crazy), and career choice.


my father was also my ally. my Mama and i, when we had our mini-quarrels, i ran to my papa. i always did. but my papa always sided with my mama, lol. but even then, he could do no wrong. he was still loved.

i always look forward to talking to him because he would always laugh on the other end of the line when i make jokes or make some weird comment about my new life in england and tell him of my 'weird dreams for the family'. and i love it, when he says on the phone "taod-taod na lagi ka wala katawag" / "its been some time since you phoned" even if the last time was a day ago.


and he would always say to my cousins jokingly "nindaot na lagi ka karl" "youve lost weight karl" everytime karla comes over. (he cant even see, he was blind!,LOL).


i dont know where this story is heading but this is important to me. because you, the reader has to know that for whatever i am now, and whatever i do, its all because there was a man named Celso who is beloved and is sorely missed until the day he would welcome me aboard in our maker's kingdom.


i am writing this because this makes me feel whole again.


and its because, there is one day that i am allowed to talk about the father who has long gone and yet still pinches the sore scabs of the heart left splintered the day he stopped breathing.








i miss him so much. there is not a day i am not reminded that he lived.