Tuesday morning last week after arriving from my Paris trip my husband woke me up saying that my sister called sobbing and told him that my father died and I just started to cry. I tried to post about it but until now I can’t so I just start with what I had written that day.

I just received the sad news today that my father died in the hospital bed. I can’t believe it because most of my loyal readers and friends knows that he was operated last January to remove a tumor in his brain. We visited him and he was slowly but surely was on his way to fully recover. When we visited him last February after his first operation I can vividly he tried to talk and walk although he was struggling but he tried to show us that he can walk. We were so happy when Magnus, my 3 year old son tried to help him walk using the stroller whatever you call it. We also enjoyed moments when we ate and he always asked me to share my potato chips.

My brother Jess had described his last visit and posted it in his Friendster’s bulletin. He still too saddened by our lost he can fell my father around him in his room where my parent used to stay and in our flat where he ashes lies. He had a special bond because the blood that runs in his veins is my father’s literally because he almost died when he was a baby and only my father’s blood type that matched. I wasn’t there which hurts me so much.

Last monday June 8,2009 I was holding my father´s hand as he slowly taking his last moment,last breath of his life. He was lying in bed seriously ill. I kept talking to him about our family, our relatives and friends, our past and our future. Hoping he can still listen to every words I´m saying. Sometimes he showed a little hope of life by breathing heavily and moving his lips and his eye lids. I kept holding his hand firmly to make him feel how we love him dearly. I can still feel the warmth of his body giving me hope that he can make it still and recover soon. I said my goodbyes to him and left the hospital with little hope that he will still be alright.

I went back to work that day and still keep praying and hoping that my father will be ok. As I finished my work and head to my room suddenly a certain sadness struck me and I keep crying knowing that my father will be gone soon. I only stop when I have fallen asleep. About 3 o´clock early in the morning of June 9, 2009 I was awake already like when how my father used to wake me up. Then the phone started ringing, first ring I didn´t want to answer it, second ring I´m afraid already it will be the saddest news of my life. Third ring I decided to answer it to accept the reality. Then the lady said if the family of Estanislao P. Navarro could come to the hospital. I didn´t ask any more question but self denying the reality. I called my mother to tell them about the call. I prepared myself and went to face the reality. As I slowly walk getting near the hospital my knees were trembling. I saw my mother and my sisters. We talked with the doctor and told us about the death of my father. By then we were already crying. I hugged my mother and sisters and comforted each other. Then we went in to see the lifeless body of my father, covered with white cloth. We opened it exposing the his face and I looked for his hand and hold it, praying to God that his soul will rest in peace and he will go to heaven.

June 9, 2009 about 9 o´clock in the morning was the last hold of my father´s hand.

My father was born November 4, 1940 and died June 9, 2009. He was a good man to his friends and relatives, a great father to his children giving us the love and care we needed even if we were not together most of our lives and a best husband to my mother always by her side.

As we start to move on and face reality, we will always have my father´s memory in our hearts and in our minds forever in our lives.