Tag Archives: Melancholia

Missing Daddy at Christmas


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Christmas used to be a very festive occasion for me. It’s my daddy’s birthday so it also served as the day when the family got together. Everyone in our street also got invited for lunch. Daddy’s a known cook and I just loved hearing our guests rave about his famed bakareta and hamonado.

As a child and up to my college years, Christmas was my favorite time of the year.

When I started working, I got to go home for Christmas only twice in seven years since my work in the service and travel industry required me to be on duty as the yuletide season happened to be one of our busiest.

Last year, I lost my dad two months before Christmas and when December 25 came, it was my worst Christmas to date. I was thankful I had my work to busy myself with but the moment I got home, I couldn’t help but feel so sad. I missed him so much. I missed greeting him a Happy Birthday. I missed hearing his laugh and his making lambing on what he wanted for his gift. I just missed him missing me.

This year was no better. Though my current work did not entail me working on holidays, I chose to not go home in our province because I still couldn’t bear being in the home I grew up in and not seeing my dad on what used to be his most special day.

I have long accepted that he’s gone and though there is no more pain from losing him, there is and will always be that pain from missing him.

Daddy, I miss you so much. Each day and especially at Christmas, we all miss you so much. And yesterday, as I lit a candle in your memory, I offered a prayer and thought of what I told a friend two days ago.

Me: You know, I’ve never been lucky in raffles but this year, I won a printer and some appliance in the events I attended. Daddy sure is looking after me.

And it made me remember this too:

“My father died many years ago, and yet when something special happens to me, I talk to him secretly not really knowing whether he hears, but it makes me feel better to half believe it.” – Natasha Josefowitz

But unlike Natasha Josefowitz, I do know and believe with all my heart that from up above, you are looking after us. This was what comforted me in those days of great sorrow and now, it’s something that takes away my sadness.

I know my future Christmases will always be tinged with sadness because you will not be here to share it with us but there’s a certain gladness in knowing that we now have an angel dad to cheer us on and lift us up.

Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, Dad.


the heart weeps


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i watch listlessly
as the sky
is being painted russet
by the setting sun
i heave a sigh
and not out of relief
as my heart sinks
and my face
turns ashen
with my refusal
to cry the tears
that threaten
to spill down
my cheeks.

how can something
with such a promising
have an ending
so heartbreaking?

are meant to be
so they say
but now i know
that they can
and will
break hearts too.

and now i know
that the most painful
part of this
isn’t losing you
but is the awareness
that my heart
is still being held captive
by the same man
who broke it.

but i’ll unchain myself
from you, you’ll see
and i’m starting now
by letting my heart weep
the tears that my eyes
refuse to shed.


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I must have been so stupid
I must have been so out of touch
He must have been so clever
Convincing me that this was really love

I listened in rapt attention as I heard Natalie Walker’s Quicksand for the first time.  Then I smiled.  Oh how many times have I heard of the same stories from people I know?  Or read about such in many novels and watched the stories unfold in quite a number of movies.  Then I remembered that at one point in my life, I too felt the same way.

Love does not fool us.  People do.  And when we realize that we have been fooled by the very people we gave our trust to, the heartache can be so exquisite it can only be heartbreaking.

How many times can my heart break
Disillusioned by the thought of flawless love
Will I ever get there
Or am I drowning in quicksand
With no relief to come.

How can I not know any better?  I have heard this many times too.  Had said it myself.  But then again that was what made him clever.  He who not only made me believe him but made me believe in love as well.  And that’s what made my ordeal worse.

I hurt not only for the person but more so for the love I lost.