I Am Tiramisu

My father's hat.

78 days since he has been gone.

78 days of crying myself to sleep.

I swore I would not write any sad thoughts on father's day. But my mother gives papa's most favorite and most worn cowboy hat to my husband for father's day. I could not keep my eyes off it as it sits on my hubby's table. So many memories of my own father using the hat.

His brother from the US sent him this before I was born. There are albums and albums of photos of him wearing it. From when I was a baby to when I was in college.

I couldn't help but wear it before I headed out this morning...

I could still smell papa's pomade. It could be my imagination. I feel him.

I'm glad it now belongs to my husband.

Papa...

I miss you. Terribly.

Every day, every night.

I miss your text messages, your calls, your cellphone number flashing on my phone.

I miss you asking how my photoshoot went. I miss you asking me if I've lost weight already.

I miss looking into your eyes.

Have you known then?

When you'd dial my number and just listen to me call your name 3 times a day before we saw one another?

When called your granddaughters' names and hugged them one by one minutes before it happened?

When you told our helper to always take care of mommy and the plantation?

Have you known already that very morning?

When you gave me your favorite watch?

I will always miss you pa.

I will always need you in my life.

(Belated) Happy Father's Day, papa in heaven.