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Aitai" 会いたい - Happy fathers' day

Updated on June 21, 2015

"Every single one of them is sharing their love to their respective fathers with pictures of them hugging their fathers on this day, celebrating , updating their statuses on social media ,and spamming my newsfeeds with how blessed they feel to have the best father in the world by their side", she said with sorrowful tears.

On the other hand, I sit by my empty bed wallowing in my tears of regret and remorse. “ Happy fathers’ day”, is long gone, for there is no happiness left after the heart of the home fades, there is no father after the treacherous fingers of death snatch up my family and turn it to crumbles; there is no longer time for belated celebrations, no longer time for belated regrets, for what have been lost can’t be brought back to life regardless how many cries and wishes are aimed at the skies. There is no morning after the sun has sunk into the damp sea, and indeed there is no happy father’s day after the father has been lost to the world of the dead.

Sure enough I did not know the value of having you by my side, until I lost your touch, lost your smile, your troubled eyes, and broken will. But I have lost you and it has been too long of a journey to stop crying now. I have regrets that I can never speak of, yet, whom am I to call upon your ghost, I, who abandoned you during your living days. How can I say I miss you when I never told you I loved you when you were there, tangible, within my grasp?

How can I say I feel loss with your absence when I shut you out of my world when you were walking among us? How can I say I want to hug you and smell you yet, all I have is a memory crumbling to dust?

I miss you, so much, no matter how strong I pretend to walk as a move forward, I feel the guilt eating me up! I miss, you, so much that it hurts me to think that I might ever forget: Forget that man that gave up everything to be there for his children, forget the man who hid from us his tears of frustration only when the silence of his muffled screams would silent his tears.

How could I ever forget that man who gave up everything but his pride in his children to carve a path for them better than the one he tread on? How can I, forget, that this man died with nothing in his hands but the faith he placed in his children. How could I, forget the man, whom I rejected as a father who was more than what any other father could be?

Here I stand, on the second fathers’ day after your departure, and ALL mighty me filled with words of regret. But did regret ever bring back the dead? Did remorse ever channel my feelings to you?


Sure enough, it is too late to say I love you, too late to try and embrace your essence, too damn late to straighten things up. Too late, I am always too late for the stuff that I love the most. And the ironical part is that I am, too late in noticing that I love them the most. Ironic and sarcastic,, more like pathetic and tragic is my existence. But do I ever learn. Huh, I am also too late to learn when it time is no mercy bringer. Too dam late!

And to that I will live sinking in sorrow knowing that such pain inflicted by me on you will never mend.Dad, did I ever tell you that I loved you when you were alive? Surely, I spat on your efforts to live a decent life and bring forth a more decent life upon us. But, look where I stand here in my puddle of remorse.

I do miss you, so much that it hurts to cry and think about all how I wronged you during your life and how I continue to wrong you after your death. I miss you so much that sometimes I wake up crying yearning to touch your face and beg for forgiveness. But remorse never brought the living and the dead together for remorse only fed and fed until the void occupied the nothingness within the black hole that remains. I miss you so much that it hurts breathing. As much as of a cliche this phrase is, I mean it with all the will power that I lacked back in the days that you tread this earth, that will power that I lacked to say I love you. That will power that seems to assimilate in my hands and I seem to utter those three words regretfully.

I am void of your essence, I am void of your presence, I am void of anything living and I miss you so much.If only I could say this to your face once, if only I could make it count, if only I could make it sincere enough, I would say it for once and mean it for all the times that I didn't happy fathers’ day.

Yet, again I am always to late for those that matter the most......

[ In the memory of the man who still haunts my aching dreams, in the memory of the man who I am ashamed to associate myself with for he is too divine for a filthy mundance creature such as myself to claim him my father. In the memory of the one who was ever so true].


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