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To a "Planet" that once tried to revolve around me

To the man himself—my first gentleman, my first heartbreak, and one of the few reasons why I always put “19” in my college intramurals jerseys (so I could always feel his support behind whatever I do)

Today is November 1, 2025. This All-Souls’ Day, it is a Filipino tradition to visit cemeteries, light a candle, and pray for the ones that passed away. It is also an opportunity for us to remember them. I visited my late grandmother, my late cousin, and my late father. Today, I get to reminisce everything about my father, Lolito—also locally known as “Planet”, especially it’s his 5th year—born June 1970, passed away August, 5 years ago.

I grew up with a broken family. My mother and father separated when I was 6, and the rest of that is a series of unfortunate events and honestly, were all a blur. There’s the constant feeling of being incomplete and being alone. Elementary school took a toll on me when I can’t have my mother or father in PTA meetings or special events, unlike others. All those years, we were raised by my aunt and grandmother. I was loved and raised well, of course, but there’s the element of “at the end of the day, there are still biases and sadly, no one’s on your team 100%”. I experienced staying with my father when I was in 5th and 6th grade, then after that, the rest are back with my aunt, grandmother, and mom. During my stay with them, there were some memories and had an “okay” time, but still, it feels like I’m stealing my father from his wife and son, which is odd considering we were the first and more legitimate. I still didn’t know my place.

I was so young when everything fell apart, so I have no concrete recollection of how life was like with him. All I knew was we lived simply and all was well. However, the older I get, the more I also realize the kind of man he is. He was cheerful, kind, popular, and well-loved in our town (and has become a Barangay Kagawad at some point when we weren’t around). He was also remarkable and stands out wherever he goes (I remember very well that when people find out that we were his daughters, we were recognized right away, sort of having some of that prestige points just because we were his children). He was a smart and talented guy too. He’s good at math, he owns a business (which he gets to maintain for years as far as I know), he does arts and paintings, among other things.

My mother has told us stories about how he’s a gentler and more patient parent and teacher than she is to us during our preparatory school. He teaches us in our homework so well compared to my mother that was stressed and leads to crying. In fact, she and her family still love him and were close friends with him despite what happened (that just showed me how he was a nice and respectful mature man, no awful falling out or bad blood). It came to the point that I used to think that maybe his only bad quality was that he’s a drunk man (and all the other reasons that lead to him and my mother separating); there’s probably more, but I never caught wind on them.

Now in my adulthood, we had a very civil, father-daughter relationship. He got to somehow financially support my sister when she was studying in state college. Little amount for her allowance and I still have to suffice, but still a valuable thing. We get to spend some time with him when we finally relocated here to the province. My mother is friends with him and his wife. I think that setup works well, and it doesn’t take too much of my energy. We can rely on him sometimes when there’s anything we need. He’s someone willing to care for or help if given a chance. We live in the same small town, so we get to see and visit each other every day. He understood how little time we have because we were busy with work and home and never complained of our lapses (at least it doesn’t show us anyway). He’s a jolly and energetic person so it’s also something very contagious about him.

Looking at it now, it was saddening how we were almost never there throughout his sickness up to his death. It’s not just because we were busy, but also because we don’t know what to do or if we were ready to see him on his final days. Other than that, there was some sort of an unspoken turnover of responsibility to his new life with a new family—a family where we no longer have a place in. What’s heartbreaking is he died almost a month after my sister and I’s 23rd birthday. Despite being sick, he was able to hold a simple gathering and help cook food at his place for our birthday.

I remembered July 19th, 2020, the day before my birthday. I visited him at his place, and he was there when his wife and son were away for their business. He was sick and just got out of the hospital, so I thought about paying a visit and seeing how he’s been doing. We had some catch up, watched TV together, and suddenly, he brought up the plans about our birthday and how we can just have a simple dinner in his house. All along he still cares about our day and wants to be a part of it (little did we know it will be the last time that he will). We agreed, then we spent the rest of the day massaging his forehead. It was quiet and peaceful, until I must go home (if only we knew that those quiet hours are the only adulthood memory I’ll get from him).

Then almost a month later, August 19th, we caught the news that he has died. It was overwhelming and sad, that I don’t know what to feel. I couldn’t cry at first, but I felt so devastated. Could that be because we were never there for each other for most of our lives? Was that because I had only little of an attachment to my father? I don’t know. All I knew was that I grieved, and it all felt heavy, but it was not obvious that people may think it’s just another day for me. I can see his wife sobbing and his son all sad all throughout and wonder why I can’t be just that. I am also losing a part of my life, and I may have taken him for granted while he was alive. Despite everything, he was still a kind and supportive man to us.

Few years have passed; I learned to get over grief and move on. He’s a very cheerful and funny man that he’ll probably hate seeing his girl all broken because of his passing. It was easy to heal because he was nothing but a nurturing person. There’s still a little grief here and there, but it less heavy and I can now make humor about it. His wife also doesn’t really require us to do something and be involved but rather invite us on his death anniversaries (that we rarely have time to attend), and she’s also close friends with my mother now. I go to the cemetery sometimes when things happen and I need someone to talk to.

If I’m being honest, I used to hate my father, or at least I’ve resented him. Maybe it is because he was never around, and we felt that he didn’t even try to find us, and maybe just escaping the responsibilities of further raising us as we get to high school and we’ll need his support more than ever. But now that I’ve gotten older, I am now considering that there might be nuances and reasons beyond us. I think I’m no longer interested in the details, he’s dead and it won’t change anything as I have forgiven him for it. Besides, if he and my mom ended up on good terms, why wouldn’t I? In fact, my mom has told us that they made a pact that whoever dies first, the other one looks after their family, and I think we now know the resolution to that.

The thing is, he would’ve been so happy and proud with whatever we get to do now—his two eldest girls doing extremely well in college and having good jobs; only a father could dream. Sure, there might be some topics of conversation on why no one picked up an engineering program like he did or accountancy like my mom’s. But the thing is, none of us picked up their math prowess, but rather their genes may have given us a headstart so that our brain can be capable of excelling in things we do best. Besides, he’s also an art/painting guy, and we may have got those creative interests in ourselves. Heck, maybe he’ll also step-up and be more supportive than ever.

"We may have been so distant, and we’ve never been together for most of our lives that I may not fully feel how were you as a father to me or how was I as a daughter for you. One thing is for sure, you will always be remembered as a good man and I hold onto that as I navigate this life."

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