what's for dinner

my son R is now in his mid-20s and already a father to 7-month old ayel. but i guess no matter how old one may be, we'll always be our parent's little boys/girls.

while cooking dinner one day, i was surprised when he said, "mi, what happened to daddy? it was like he became a different person?"

"define different," i answered.

"like he was not daddy anymore. i wanted to trust him like before but i had this feeling like daddy got lost somewhere inside that man's body. he looks like daddy, talks like him but it isn't him. do you understand what i mean?" he said.

i simply nodded. i knew exactly what he meant.

"what do you think happened to him...?" he continued.

i could not find the right words to answer him. pointing at our house cat instead, i said "look at him... sitting there, relaxed and asleep. have you noticed how he runs around all day long, goes out for hunts during the night? but where do you find him when he's not doing his stuff?"

"sleeping on the steps or on top of the washing machine.." R answered softly.

"what do you think will happen to our house cat if we leave him out on the streets?" i asked him.

"he'll probably become wild or fierce and fight with other cats. or he will probably keep on looking for us or for a new family to live with," he said. "so...?"

"losing one's family can change a cat..." i said, "but it doesn't mean it has forgotten us."

when he was about 4 or 5 years old, R was bitten by a puppy. the pup didn't make it so his dad and i took him to the doctor and had him vaccinated with anti-tetanus. on top of it, the doctor recommended a series of anti-rabies vaccines--18 of them (if i remember right) to be administered daily at the san lazaro hospital. R's dad took him there diligently for 18 consecutive days for the scheduled shots.

then when he was around seven, he was hospitalized for more than a week due to high fever and his dad slept in the hospital with him from the day he was confined to his discharge. for my part, i would visit R in the evening after coming home from work and bring clothes, food or whatever supplies are needed.

"so you see," i told my son, "your dad made time for you while i went to work when you should have been more important." truth was, i wanted to be there with them but there were hospital bills to pay. but still...

R and his dad shared a lot of good times together, and i often tell him to always keep those in mind. what happened between us was not his fault, he was in fact, an ally to both camps engaged in a crossfire.

i know there are times R wished his dad was still around... that he misses him sometimes. i am not sure about so many things but in my heart, i want to believe that his dad never stopped loving him. that it's not about being a "bad" or "uncaring" parent for i honestly believe there is no such thing. that sometimes, it's our own unhappiness that scares and inhibits us from giving love back to others.

seeing my once little boy carrying his baby girl in his arms accompanies my sigh with a sob. and silently, i pray that this little girl will always have her daddy around--to talk with, to play with, or simply hang around with. they might even have little conversations like these while cooking dinner.