Conversations With My Father
Written by Major Tom
Filed under: Personal and Family
March 15, 2007
My father is 60 years old today but he is not here to celebrate it. As some of you might be aware by now, he had passed away August of last year when the night was often cloudless in the night, and the days were windy like a summer that had lost its way and found itself in the valley of spring.
He should have died entirely unexpectedly but thinking that he had been struggling and even combating a lingering illness for decades previously, one that had also bothered my grandfather so gravely in the past, causing the amputation of his legs before he finally ceded his breath into the great unknown, one could also say that his time must have already come and that he was bound to depart into the afterlife in an earlier time than what is usual.
When my father died, I had a short passing post in this blog announcing the unfortunate circumstance and went on a hiatus that was one of the longest I had taken and one that I almost thought I wouldn’t get out from. In my mind, I was thinking of writing about him, all the things he was to me and how had lived a life in his own way, as I saw through my eyes, truthfully and sincerely. Perhaps, he needed a last requiem from his eldest son who he had named after his own father.
Months had passed since that fateful August day but I could not seem to bring myself to write about my dead father. It felt so heavy to elaborate and make way for the emotions that sadness and sorrow still hinders and obstruct; like a sacred thing that could not be touch by mortal hands. Even up to this very moment, I am still struggling for words and ideas, on how to go about in commemorating the natal day of the man who had sired me, and still feel that I may not be able to write the requiem as I had intended it in the first place.
But maybe I have some other ideas in my mind at this moment. Maybe I’d write about some conversations I had with my father, especially those that I had with him even after he had already gone. Yes, for a number of nights, on separate occasions, my father spoke to me in a number of dreams and the words he had said to me there were vibrant enough that it felt like he was speaking to me in real life; like he was alive and well.
They were all very short dreams, but they all came in very uniform manner, wherein he was always wearing a white undershirt and a pair of white pajamas, and his skin was whiter than I had seen him before and his hair was black like shoe polish. And everywhere around him was shining with bursting white light and silvery rays that I could not reckon other images other than his facade. Imagine a fluorescent light that could be thousand of watts in illuminating power and be standing so near it.
In the first dream, my father intimated to me these words, “Why don’t you buy yourself a new wristwatch”. That was all he had said to me and the dream ended even before I could even answer his question. When I woke up I was a little wary why the dream ended so soon and why I felt like it wasn’t like a dream at all but an incident in real time. After that, I had pondered on the question about the wristwatch and indeed I had remembered him to be fond of buying watches, and had given a number of them to me, to my brothers and sister and also to my mother. The last one he had given me was a Seiko Kinetic that I kept even upto this time but have not used for sometime now after it had broken down in functionality.
In the second dream, after about a month from the first one I narrated above, my father reappeared in a dream similar to the initial one, with him wearing white shirt and long white pajamas. This time his voice was more patent and was keenly profound and he said to me: “I have already read your book, my son. I have already read it”. After that the dream disappeared suddenly that I woke up wondering what he had actually meant by those words; or was it in a positive note like he had approved of the said “book” or was it worthless that he hadn’t appreciated it at all? I had recounted over and over again how he had asked that question, what tone it had came to me, and if he were glad about it or on the one hand, was actually mad about such idea; that of reading my book.
I had remember that once when I went to our house in Cawit, I was bringing a copy of a rough manuscript of a book that I had completed among other things and had left it there for more than a week. Maybe he had tried to examine the things I had left there and found the manuscript binded loosely in an orange-colored folder. Maybe he really had read it once before. And in that dream, he had wanted to let me know about it make known his reaction to me; but somehow, the reaction wasn’t so clear and had left me wondering even up to this time. It even got me worried for some reason.
There was another still dream after the second one but somehow I could not remember now the words he had said to me there.
So these were the conversations I had with my father months after had gone away. When he was alive, these were the words he had often said to me and it goes, “there is no success without sacrifice”. I could not say right now that I have already reach the peak of success, or anywhere near it, yet these are words that flashes in my mind whenever I am confronted with squabbles and hurdles and difficulties in the past, and even up to this time. Maybe success will one day come to me but right now it had not yet come despite that I have lived by the term of sacrifice for most of my life. I hope someday, my sacrifices will bear the fruit of success.
I’m touched by this post, major tom. Having lost my husband only months ago, I’m so familiar with your conversations. Up till now, I awaken to things like these. I still tell him what worries me and get answers in my dreams.
It is hard to find words on how to share one’s loss. I’m still referring to it. Hope you find closure in this writing.
Comment by ipanema — March 15, 2007 @ 2:05 am
Hi Major Tom
Oh I’m teary eyed. I miss my own father. No he’s not dead. He’s very much alive but far from me coz he’s in the province. But your wristwatch dream reminds me of him too. You know I grew up watching my parents make both ends meet. So we don’t get gifts really but when I graduated from HS, Papa promised to buy me a wristwatch and he did. It was a Citizen watch and still with me but since it’s not working anymore(died a natural death) I no longer use it. But I kept it of course. Papa also bought my younger sister a watch. Now I wonder what’s with father buying their kids wristwatches? lolz
Seriously about the book…during those times, did you ever think that your Dad didn’t care about your talent or your writing skills? Maybe in the dream it was his way of telling you that he did
Comment by verns — March 15, 2007 @ 3:47 pm
To ipanema: Thanks for the consolation ipanema and you’re right, the pain of losing someone so close and endeared is just heavy to take that even if time had passed, it recurs and even lingers.
To verns: I think it is some kind of custom and tradition for fathers to give their children wristwatches, like a symbolic token of passing a legacy, just like giving education which they say is the most precious inheritance we get from our parents for it can never be taken away.
About the book, I believe that it was that way, telling me that he had appreciated my ideas and thoughts.
Comment by Major Tom — March 15, 2007 @ 4:51 pm
My father had already died a couple of months before I got my dream watch, a Rado; its full page ad graced the back pages of our country’s magazines back then. It was my high school graduation gift. A month after graduation, I was in bed one night nursing a flu tirelessly polishing that watch. Out of nowhere I heard someone asked, “What time is it?” I immediately responded, “Quarter to nine.”
Suddenly it hit me. Who was it that asked? But it didn’t take long for me to realize who it was. It was my father.
Major Tom, I think it is your father’s deep wish that you pursue your inner to desire to get your writings published. Not sure about the local publishing industry, but I’d consider knocking on some publishers’ doors in the U.S. if I were you I’m sure there’s enough info online to get you started. Just a hunch.
Comment by eric — March 15, 2007 @ 5:20 pm
As elusive as it may seem now, success will come, but only after much sacrifice. Hang in ther bro, and God willing, that much sought-after dream of having a book published might soon be within arms reach…
Comment by snglguy — March 15, 2007 @ 9:01 pm
There were eight of us,two elder sisters and two brothers and three younger sisters and altough I’m the youngest of the “boys” I am my brothers keepers and my father knew it and everytime we met as I used to come home and visit when he was still alive, and he also visited us here, he oft repeated to me to look after our Youngest Twins sisters and that’s all he asked from me. Now my youngest twins sisters are both happily married, one with 3 teenage children just immigrated to California December of 2005, One also in New York married to a fellow Physician but no children though.
He has not visited me in dreams yet to check on his words, but if he will, he would not be disappointed, because I did what he asked for and more….
Comment by vic — March 15, 2007 @ 10:15 pm
To eric: Thanks for the encouragement and truthfully, I feel thatyopu’re very lucky that your father had communicated to you in such a manner. Maybe, the spirits of the dead lives on and thru this strange incidence, we are made aware of what is out there.
Hmmmn, now that/s a nice idea, I think I’ll start searching thru the net for possible publishers. I have already visited some sites who offered such but never thought about trying it; but I think it’s worth a try.
To sngl: Thanks a lot bro for the encouragement as Eric had in his comments. I am planning to publish it myself in due time but still waiting for the right time and circumstance…
To vic: I feel good that you have become such an ideal son to your father. I’d like to believe that myself but I am not so sure about it, maybe only time would tell.
Comment by Major Tom — March 15, 2007 @ 11:05 pm
i also wrote about my father today, but he survived! God please, im so afraid to lose him….
Comment by curacha — March 16, 2007 @ 4:01 am
Your father left you a great legacy even through those words of wisdom. I’m sure he is happy now, watching how you are going along…
Comment by rhodora — March 16, 2007 @ 1:56 pm
Perhaps you will be able to write that requiem once you’re past the grieving stage. Right now, what you’ve written here is more than enough, I think.
I once attended a seminar conducted by an American dream analyst. He said it’s important to remember how you felt towards a person or a circumstance “featured” in your dream. Did you feel good? Sad? Happy? Angry? Resentful? Whatever your feeling or reaction was, he said it is indicative of what is truly in your heart concerning a certain issue — it can be positive or negative.
All the best in your book project!
Comment by Jayred — March 16, 2007 @ 4:11 pm
You remind me of singer/writer Dan Fogelberg who honored his father through a song - Leader of the Band which is think one of heck of a tribute to a father :
” his blood runs through my instruments
and his song is in my soul
My life is just a poor attempt to imitate the man
I’m just a living legacy of the leader of the band”
Pls go ahead and write he book Major Tom. Let me know when you’re done and I’ll buy one
Comment by bw — March 17, 2007 @ 2:55 am
To curacha: I am glad to hear that your father did well in his latest battle against the Big C. I am sure with prayers still, the Lord will be on your side always.
To rhodora: Thanks for the encouragement rhodora; like you said, maybe he is now in a better place.
To Jayred: Thanks Jayred. I am certain that there was a feeling of goodness after I had dreamt about him but past circumstances had make me think a little wary. But if the dream analyst is true to his words, then it was surely a positive thing for me.
To BW: Now I have a buyer long before it got to the market. I thought only J.K. Rowling had the distinction…he..he..he..
Kidding aside; hey I never thought that ‘Leader of The band’ was an the singers elegy to his dead father. I thought it was some other famous guy, like John Lennon, having led a famous band.
Comment by Major Tom — March 17, 2007 @ 2:07 pm