Last Saturday I attended mass. It was the 20th Death Anniversary of my father. I barely knew my father. He died when I was only 5 years old, and I didn’t really grow up with him. I remember very little about him. I know he was very tall and thin. He was moreno. He was good at playing chess on the PC. And he made a dollhouse from scratch for me and my sister. Yun lang.

After he died, I didn’t really miss him. How can I miss a person who was never really present in my life?

Everytime I am reminded of him, and how he lived his life, I am consumed by questions, doubt, and anxiety. This often happens every year when we “celebrate” his death anniversary. Some people say I was his favorite daughter. There are just two of us, but that still puts a lot of pressure on me. I know I have not been perfect and I have made too many mistakes. Remembering my father always makes me re-think my life and how I have lived it.

For the first time last Saturday, I was quite proud of myself. I know that past year has not been ideal. In fact it has been quite a sad and crazy one. But finally… I can say to myself, I am happy, truly, genuinely happy. I like where I am right now. And I think I already know where I wanna go and how I’m going to live my life. I don’t worry about what other people say anymore. I am not bothered by other people’s rules and standards. I do what I want to do, when I want to do it. And if I do fail, I have nobody else to blame. And if I succeed, nobody else can claim it as their victory. I am finally my own self now.

20 years ago, a good man died. The day he died, was the day my life changed forever.