My mom is cleaning her room, which has cabinets and boxes of things, most of which she’s forgotten about. She found a drawer of some of my dad’s old things, which she thought she’s donated all to charity since he passed away.
There’s the cervical collar my mom bought to help him keep his head up. He hated it. My brother used to put it around my dad’s neck and they would fight. He still had a lot of fight in him. He also hated oatmeal. Whenever we’d feed him, he’d spit it out back into the bowl like a child.
He liked peanut butter sandwiches with milk for breakfast and merienda. Rice and sinigang na bangus with lots of vegetables for lunch and dinner. That was mostly what he ate the three years he was bedridden after his stroke. Every time he ate them it was like he was having them for the first time. He would beam at us. He was always grateful. He never complained. Except for the oatmeal.
This post was from my Tumblr blog back in January 2009, two and a half years after my dad died. It’s going to be seven years since he passed away on July 31.