Papa Turned 50

Still be talking about my family. This time about my Papa. It was so coincidence that I wrote about Mum the other night then yesterday was Papa's birthday. This is spontaneous. Yeah, I almost forgot that it was his special day.

Between him and Mum, I was more closer to him, my little brother was more with Mum. Papa taught me a lot of stuff, all 'boys' stuff. I grew up tomboyish. Papa and I had a lot of bonding moments. Every weekend morning, he would bring me to his basketball game with his friends, (nope, he was not an athlete, they just play) and would let me play along. Yup, I was the only girl and the little ones. It was Papa who taught me how to play the sport. I pictured how happy he was when he first saw me doing the proper dribbling. Until I totally learned basketball.

Other cool bonding moment was our bike strolling. We stroll together during our free time with his awesome bike. Of course, he taught me how to drive the vehicle. Papa has a lot of cool hobbies, one that I haven't mentioned is shooting. He used to be in a shooting club. He once brought me to the firing range and it was cool. Unfortunately, I was underage then, so I was not allowed to join the club. But at home, Papa would let me hold his sets of handgun. Only when Mum's away, of course. He taught me how to handle it and its bad side, how to assemble and maintain its cleanliness, but unfortunately not the actual firing.

A lot of cool bonding moments. You might think that I was a Papa's girl. Well, uhmm..yeah, I would say yeah a bit. There was supposed to be a lot of cool moments of me and him together, until he was engaged into different bad stuff.

Papa was not really employed then, yet was earning a lot of money. He used to own stalls in a wet market. His business was stall-renting. He then earning 5 times a typical employees could earn, that is from the stallment business alone. He also has his own fruit stand and sometimes drive a tricycle (a 3-wheeled motorcycle used for public transportation) Nice income, huh?!


Well, money is really evil. Too bad, Papa was not a good money handler. Since he had a lot of money, he abused it. Splurged it. That was not the bad part yet. Nope, he didn't gamble, but he was engaged in some other bad stuff. The not-so good habits; drinking and *ashamed* drug-abusing. With that, he little by little was unable to manage his business properly. Drug was expensive. He has to get the money from his 'renters' in advance. Until he totally lost his stallment income, his fruit stand was bankrupt, too. His huge income lost. Totally no income from the stallment.

He was really a drug-addicted then. To his to gain money for drugs, he had to sell some stuff. From his personal stuff, his bikes and tricycle, and his sets of handgun, up to the family stuff, appliance, our cool TV, the 3-player CD and its speakers, (Btw, we were the first to have that kind of player in our then community) our then old VHS player, even the electronic typewriter (like our CD player, we were the first the have it)

The only income then was Mum's salary. It came to the point that the family couldn't maintain its primary expenses anymore, such as telephone bills, water and electric bills. Back then, we had 3 phone lines, 2 of those got disconnected, since they couldn't pay its dues. We even experience electricity disconnected once.

Oops, there is still this 'much' worst part. Since Papa was bankrupt, he owed money from I do not know. He couldn't pay it at the right time, so its interest rose. Until it tripled the original figure. For him to pay back what he owes, he had to sell our..guess what, our 201 square-metered-house, it includes the stalls. I'm not gonna disclose its cost, but its 60-70% went to the money that was owed. Then we moved to a half-a-smaller house than our first one.

As her was engaged to those bad stuff, my feelings was little by little lost. Until it was totally gone. I lost my respect to him. I was not showing any courtesy to him anymore. I stopped calling her 'Papa', but instead, 'hey', and always in a shout manner. I hated him. I wanted him to split up with Mum and find another women. I thought then that broken family is cool, than with Papa around always drunk and high in drugs, always messing things up.

Before we moved to our smaller new house, he quited using bad drugs. I thought that was it. I thought we were going to start again, thought he was then gonna be changing. Like, "a new house, a new life". But his drinking habit continues, and it even gotten worst!

Papa was drunk everyday. But, despite his drunkenness, he still was able to fetch Mum from work to our house with his then 'new bike'. I wouldn't see any changes from him until he suffered a bike accident. He was driving drunk. (I think it was his motto; "Drink and drive". The accident was worst. He lost his memory for a while. He was in a hospital for few months. When he gets back home, I was still mad at him. Then he little by little feels better. When he totally got recovered, it was the start, he quited drinking alcohol. Our then house was far away from my school, so after few years, we moved to a nearer one. If our second house was smaller than our first, this time is much smaller. But that's not the thing. The closeness that was lost between and Papa has not gained back yet when he went back to his habit. Months ago after we moved in, he was confined at the hospital due to over alcohol in his system. It affects his liver. Thank God he survived. His doctors advised him to avoid alcohol, or else it he would lose his life. For the second time, he quited drinking. But I guess his alcoholism keeps coming back..


Few years ago, Mum's province was struck by a super typhoon, so she went there to check up on her relatives that were affected. Mum was away from several days. What she didn't know while she was elsewhere was Papa went back to being alcoholism. Just few months after that, he was again rushed to the hospital. Some hospitals were not accepting him anymore, because his case was very sensitive, until they found one, the one that admitted him the last time. His doctors then declared that he has no chances of surviving. Like, his liver was 'total wrecked'. I was so mad then. Mad at him, of course. It was all his fault. Everything! Mum wanted me to see Papa at the hospital. Despite my hatredness, I came to see him. "That might be the last time I could him see breathing", I thought. "If he dies, too bad for him. He would left with anger in my heart". Everybody was there, my family, some of Mum's relatives and friends, and of course, Papa's non-sense drinking buddies. There was even a little prayer given by a priest, right in his room. No tears were shed from my eyes, since there was a grudge in me.

When my brother and I came home, I started doing my eulogy, as my childhood memories with Papa was flashing back. Nope, I still didn't cry while writing my eulogy.

Afternoon the next day, I was scheduled to drop by the hospital. My plan was to get money from Mum before I go to my class. It was so heart-pounding when I entered Papa's room when he and his bed were not there. Mum was not there, as well. I was so nervous. I thought something that I was expecting happened. While I was on my way to the nurse's station, Mum's friend approached to me and told me that Papa was recovering. And, I was like, "What?!" She said that Papa gained back his consciousness and was observing by his doctors. Mum's friend convinced me to stop and wait for them. Few hours ago, Papa was back and aware. I was so surprised. It was like yesterday when he was like vegetables, so unconscious and now..!? I was sadly surprised and happily surprised. I don't know. It's not that I wanted him to die, but there was not assurance that he would totally stop drinking. He quits and get back. So, I thought it was better for him to die, than remain alive, and continue his bad habit. That only brings burden to the family. But then, his doctors said it was a miracle. So we must appreciate his life-for-the-second-time.

It's been more than a year now since that incident happened. Nope, he's not drinking anymore, thank God. Hope he can hold to his promise never to drink again. Yup, we made a deal. If he gets back to that habit, I will be the one to poison him! Yeah, seriously, it's a deal.

So far, I see big changes from him. He is more religious now and can contribute to the family. Who would have thought that he would reach this age, 5o. He was always rushed to the hospital and would survive. People say maybe he has the lives that cats has. I'm praying that he will totally stay away from alcohol. Maybe the reason why the Big Guy has not taken his life yet, because he still has more missions. Fifty years is not that old. He lost a lot of materials things, but I hope we can go back to the lives we were the very first time I saw him. The closeness that was lost between me and his has not gained back yet, but I, somehow, am showing courtesy now, hehe.

Now, as he turns 50 yesterday, we just had a little celebration, just a simple dinner. Mum bought some food from a Chinese restaurant. Simple, yet cool.