From the moment I have the chance to understand what is happening around me was the time I was able to witness how hard life was. It’s hard to recall my early childhood stage but it was in my sixth grade, I started to realize every situation I encountered. My mother is a responsible housewife. She was good at cooking and I inherited it from her from five siblings in the family. My fondness for cooking helped me to overcome my anxiety. My father was working for an oil company. One of my favorite desert my father used to bring is the “banana cake” having it makes my whole day complete. That’s the only happiness I have from an innocent daughter.
When it’s exactly 4:00 in the afternoon, our family is busy preparing for our dinner and this has been our routine every single day. Our mother taught us to sets of household chores that’s why I am used to fetching water, wash the dishes, cooking using tree logs, and helping my mother washing our clothes. The table is set well for five people. You may wonder why five why not seven since I mentioned earlier I have five siblings, to explain to you in short, I have one step-sister and one stepbrother. They’re adults and have their pathways in life. My father is a strict man since he was trained in his teenage life way back when he entered the military but quit by the time his close brother died during the war. I think it’s one of the reasons why he weighed heavy about his hidden emotions. I could still recall when I did a simple mistake in the dining room. I was about to offer the plate of food and by accident, I dropped it on the table and I am not in shock about what will be the result because I know this will increase his temper. It was thrown back to me and continue eating with the rest of the family it was like nothing happened. I don’t know if you experienced the same that I did but I can only say that we have the most silent dinner every day. It’s quite boring but that’s the life I had.
Sunday is the day to worship and go to the church. I can see my friends wearing beautiful floral dresses and colorful bow ties ready to attend the mass and when the mass is done, the neighborhood was having baskets of fruits or flowers going back to their respective homes. It seems like everyone is celebrating and their souls were cleansed but it was a big opposite on us most especially my family. Sundays are covered with fears, unwise tears, and alarming. My father never misses every single Sunday to get drunk. He was into lots of trouble. There was a time when he fought with his cousin. He wanted to walk out of the door but I and my mother tried our best to stop him. Even though I was not firm enough but I have to do it because I don’t want that this will lead to bloody stains. It’s sad to say that I experienced punched by my father and by the time he realized that he hit me, he started to go back inside. I was on my thoughts that I rather get hurt than he will hurt others. He arrived at home with no cash in his wallets and we knew his friends took advantage of the opportunity every time he was drunk and can’t remember how it all started.
I became the buddy of my mother. As the youngest of five, I am the only daughter who can control my father. Every time we heard the news that someone saw our father was drinking in that specific place, I and my mother quickly go and take him home.
Only I can hear is, “Donna! Oh, Donna is coming now! Come Donna!” My mother said.
I am grateful that despite my age, I was able to help my mother to cope with this kind of situation which was becoming a habit every weekend. There was a big clinic I need to pass through if I will ride a jeepney going to school in my high school days. Every time I see it, I will turn my head in the other direction because I will remember that’s where my father laid when he was so drunk and we carried him.
It was the year 2009 when my mother was hospitalized due to her diabetes. I was losing hope because she was transferred to the Intensive Care Unit I.C.U. and walking in the hall watching critical patients turned my sight into the dark. So hopeless. My father decided to quit his job for decades working in the company to pay the bills in the hospital. He was able to sacrifice it so my mother can have better medication. There was one tragic night when I and my grandmother were about to sleep. I can smell the strong gasoline and heard someone was screaming. I saw my father pouring the gasoline into my uncle’s house, ours, and my grandmother’s. I quickly ran outside, turn on the faucet, and trying to fill every single container with water and scattered it. I was mad at him yet feel sad because he was asking help from the relatives and nobody lends a helping hand for my mother’s hospitalization. I know how depressed he was. The next day, my mother awakens and wondering where’s my father. I learned to lie at her. I told her that he was busy planting on the farm but without knowing, my father was imprisoned on the same night when he did the harmful act. I can’t tell my mother the truth because I don’t want her to overthink and worry. As far as I remember, my father was released in the afternoon.
Why do I still love my father despite all the negative things he did?
If there are many reasons to leave my father, there are many reasons too to stay. The bad experiences taught me lots of life lessons. It taught me how to be strong. It taught me how to face the consequences and it taught me how to be fearless. Fathers are fathers and nobody can take that. We cannot leave the person because of his bad behavior, imagine he has nothing already, how much more to abandoned him. Try to think why you are here on this earth. Without your father, will you still be able to see the beauty of the world? If we have the power to care, understand and love then let’s practice it to the needy ones. I do believe there are changes at the perfect time. If you truly love your father, you shouldn’t give up on him. I may not have the same experience with your dads but I just wanted to highlight these are all based on my experiences. My father might not teach me lots of good things but his bad experiences taught me how to forgive.
That’s all for today. I am happy to share with you part 1 of this journey. In my next post let’s see if my father changed and learned from his mistakes or still unbothered. Let’s always remember, no matter how society judges our father, there are still good things on his Mother side. Let’s focus on the good ones and stand together to fight this battle in LIFE because that is what a true family is, helping each other.
Sources :
Image 1-Concierge Sobriety Services (russatkins.com)
Image 2-Girl Depression Sadness - Free photo on Pixabay
Image 3-Quora - A place to share knowledge and better understand the world
