hit the pause

I have about 2 hours from now to feed and walk the dog before heading to my grandma's fer dinner. It's times like this, I wonder if I should take a short nap or have a Final Fantasy Dissidia marathon... Then, I thought to myself, with that and Monster Hunter Freedom Unite, I'd pretty much be a lifeless gamer if weren't fer a girlfriend. So, I think I'll take this time to make up fer the loss of many unwritten blog posts.

I just got back the temple. It's the lunar seventh month goin' on and the family was gonna visit Daddy. It's obvious that I still think of him every night. Now I know what it feels like to be one of those characters in the movies with a lost loved one. It's pretty real. It's not something that people can let go, I suppose. Last night, before bed, I kept thinking about how much I disappointed him through my secondary school years with my immature antics. It's the point at which one will feel regret. Now here's the confusing part. I question my character every night before I go to sleep. Did I only change fer the better because of the passing? Back then, if I knew the days were numbered, would I have changed my attitude towards him? Now, I know I wasn't a very disrespectful son, after all, sons love fighting with their fathers. However, it seems much deeper to me now. It wouldn't have been very nice to treat someone differently because he or she is dying. To a man, that pretty much sums up what you call pity, which isn't good. That's my perspective, at least. During his days of consultation, I gave my opinion on the medical treatment and we had a coupla discussions. I always thought that what he planned to go through would make him weaker, not better. I always believed that if you can overcome something without medication, why not? Still, it would later all be up to him. Throughout that period of time, I never once softened my approach towards him. I can say that I was partially trying to hide my sorrow of a then-potential loss. Another part of me was sincerely believing that he would be strong enough to pull through with his stubborn persona. Question 2 points to whether I was filial enough to believe my father was a strong man or I was despicably attempting to just go against everything he said? I doubt it was the latter, although my reflection on our conversations generally points in that direction. I was oblivious. And I was ignorant. I always pondered upon the difference between these two words, which I now understand. I was oblivious, I did not know how much pain he was in(when I say pain, I mean UNIMAGINABLE PAIN). Even back when I was in the army, he gladly obliged to sit in the car with my mom to fetch me to and fro camp, sometimes on late and rainy nights(not being dramatic, it was the monsoon). I was ignorant, I was told of the illness but did not think it to be serious. I defiantly stood by my denying mind, believing that he could conquer it mentally. I was proven wrong. Or was I? I hear chemotherapy is powerful enough to break the toughest willpower.

These are probably answers that I have to look fer all by myself. Who knows when I'll find them. Could be the next few days, weeks, months or years. I replay my life with him everyday unfailingly, sometimes fer remorse, sometimes fer reminiscence. I cannot say that I will not continue to beat myself up and brood over past mistakes with him around or not but not all is bad as I will always remember who's the one who taught me tennis, the one who saved me during my streaming years, and the one who brought in a lost, tiny, golden puppy to the family.