Valentino

O,yes,13 years.

My father left us 13 years ago (January 29,1999) I just turned 10, and my baby sister was just two months then.I did not see him in his funeral,we weren't there. We wanted to but we couldn't. Well, we were not allowed to.


I'm an illegitimate child. I'm not ashamed of it. I'm not proud of it either. The very reason why a lot of things were different as I was growing up. He was with us on Saturdays and Sundays. In Manila for the rest of the week. He was managing a family business there. He never attended any school event, family day, recognition day,graduation day. Never.

I knew then that we were his 'second family' - a toned down term I guess for an illegitimate family (if there's even a term). These days, it may not be a big deal, but when I was young it was, and it's even a bigger deal for a traditional conservative typical Chinese family. He was a Chinese.

Papa @ 16

I never knew any of my cousins or Uncles and Aunties on Papa's side (not until he passed away). O,well,we're not the legal family anyway.

My half-sisters came to our house a couple of times to visit us. I knew they were my sisters but I didn't understand that much why we weren't living together, or why they were almost as old as my mom. And I didn't understand why we always had to wear our best clothes and prepare a poem to recite or a dance number when they visited. We just did. After two, three, or four visits, I didn't see them again.

People around would try to pretend not to talk about my family, but I knew they did. It's from them where I learned the words kabit, and anak sa labas in the first place. Yes,they called my mom kabit and they called us anak sa labas. Well, so what.

So Papa passed away,and we were informed two days after. We went to Manila to see him. But we went back home immediately after Papa's friend tried to 'negotiate' with his legal family. The negotiation failed. No funeral attended. No 'last time to see Papa'. We went back home,just like that.

My last memory of him was on my birthday (January 1,1999), that wasn't the last time I saw him, but that's the last memory I have with him. My birthday has always been special. It's New Year and everybody's always present. He sang me a happy birthday, gave me a hundred peso as a gift. That's it. He carried my baby sister (always), something he never did to Ate Anna,Cathy,Joy or me,for, according to Mama,he was afraid that he might drop us anytime. We were fragile. And he was afraid to hurt us. But Shobe (youngest girl in the family) was an exception. He was still afraid maybe, but I guess he knew he should seize the moment.

It was difficult for me to let go. I was close to him, I was his Jr. (Valentino Go, Jr. if I were a boy,thus,my name Valerie). Years and years I was hoping anytime he would come home, just like he always did. I would wait for him outside our house hoping that everything wasn't true. Years and years but no Papa came home. He's gone.

I would write him letters, always. He became my diary. All the thoughts, happenings, everything about me and my family, I tell him. As if he's just abroad and I can just send him the letters anytime. I just couldn't let go.

If I wrote this post three years ago, I was probably already in tears. But I have moved on, finally, after 10 years. :)

A friend once told me about his thoughts on life's drama - staying away from others' and not making your own. It was a short conversation, but it was like a stone thrown to my head saying, "He's right." (Thanks,friend. :D)

It's been 13 years and life has been tough without him. But life is still life. I love him and I will miss him forever.

Go Family - 1993 (Shobe's still in the making. :D)