Last Goodbye: A loving father’s Tale of Love, Loss and Forgiveness

By: Fredolin P. Aguinaldo – Doha, Qatar

I had just woken up from a fuzzy dream in my family house in the province when I heard a voice belonging to  my father asking “Sinu ang namatay?” (Who just died?) - scared to the bone, my heart skipped a beat. I tried to get up as quick as I can for he is the very reason why I took an emergency leave of absence from my work abroad (Middle East) - in order to attend his wake.

I just couldn't stop crying for I knew that even upon death my father’s love and affection were still flourishing within me - that even in my sub-conscious inner feeling he is still guiding. I can’t remember any moment in my entire life where I’ve been so scared – but at that time I felt both fear and relief. I was thankful because my father was able to communicate with me for the last time - even if it was only in my dreams.

I went straight to our family room where the body of my father was laid for his town mates to see and make last wishes before his final resting day. My mother Julia was there sobbing continuously, beside his coffin, holding a beautifully framed picture of them together.  As I said a little prayer - I could see different framed accolades of various organizations where he served adorn his coffin, what is the use of these various accolades now that he is dead – I asked myself, why acknowledge him now?

Being the eldest among the siblings, my father Anton thought me how to be tough - together we weathered all kind of hardships just to sustain our everyday lives while continuing to foster his dream that one day his children would be better-off in any directions of their choice. 

My father’s dreams were slowly being fulfilled until a deafening screech from a fast-moving passenger bus pushed him thirty-five (35) meters away from where he was standing and ended his life. How painful is it to watch someone you love dying? Some might perhaps do nothing but wipe away their tears until the last breath, but my youngest brother Ronnie came to the rescue and lovingly carried our father’s bloodied body while the bus driver hurriedly pulled away from the accident scene without even extending any assistance. He drove hurriedly zigzagging until the bus vanished from sight.

Baguio Christmas 2011

I thought I was the toughest sibling of us all by weathering my early life in Manila during my college days away from home. I remember the exact moment when I started to slip away from my father since I was a working student - life back then was hard and that eventually led to my slowly parting away from my own family. My contact with my family eventually became less what with me landing a job in the Middle East and raising a family of my own. Despite the lack of communication, I would always see to it that on my annual vacation I visit my parents and bring them to Manila or Baguio for some much-needed rest. 

My father Anton is a victim of a hit-and-run by a bus flying the Maharlika Highway route in the province of Cagayan Valley. The fatal accident happened in July 2012 - Friday the 13^th.  I am not a firm believer in the paranormal but after what had happened - I can’t help but wonder. Despite what has happened I pray that my father is at peace and hope that he is remembered well by people he has met in this life.

Tatang,

We will always remember you because there can never be another father and grandfather who can replace you in our hearts. Our love will always be with you.

Happy Birthday - we miss you.

Juanito Agnir Aguinaldo Grand Children

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