A Year After

Tomorrow is my dad’s first year death anniversary. One year ago my mom shook me awake to help my younger brother carry my unconscious dad to the nearby neighborhood clinic. One year ago I had to call my boss early in the morning to tell her I won’t be coming to work. One year ago two different people from our neighborhood claimed they saw my dad going to church to attend the morning mass; one even saw him praying at the Blessed Sacrament chapel.

My, how time flies.

Now my younger brother is married and lives in Ayala Alabang with his wife’s family; they both have a 3-month old daughter. My dad never got to see his latest grandchild. My boss is now retired, having decided at age 40 to devote her full time to raising her two young daughters. Today there are no more sightings of my dad.

My mom is coping with the loss of her lifetime partner. Death did them part. At first we were worried of her high blood pressure and occasional dizzy spells. Now her ailments seem to have diminished. She rarely checks her BP these days. I still have to convince her to have her gall stones taken out. That’s a major operation that needs to be scheduled properly.

Between my mom, my other brother, my sister and me, we’ve taken over the various tasks my dad used to handle. My mom relies on me most of the time to drive for her should she need to travel, but she can always ask my brother or my sister in case I’m unavailable. I notice my mom now clears major decisions with us; we often say yes to anything she proposes anyway.

It seems death had a way of bringing us closer together. When my lola died, the whole family went back home to Bohol to bury the last of our grandparents. After that we seem to look forward to the next occasion when all of us could be together. Baguio, Subic, the beach in Iba, Zambales… we delighted in family outings. When my dad died, whenever my mom called for a family gathering, it was easier to get everyone together. The road trip with my younger brother and sister last Holy Week would not have been possible two deaths before.

I’m sure that as the years progress we’ll be busier with our own lives, and it’ll be easier for us to say no to family invites. But I’m pretty sure we’ll still be able to rely on one another if anyone of us gets into a tight fix. We’re the McVies.