hELLO Hivers,
Today, while cleaning the house, I found a recollection letter written by my daughter during an open forum at the church. Let me share a sneak peek of the story that happened last December.
It was December 23, 2024, when we rushed my father to the hospital via a 911 ambulance. Upon arriving, he regained consciousness and asked where he was. I told him, “We’re at the hospital, Pa.” Before we even entered the emergency room, he said, “Te, I can’t do this anymore.” My tears started to flow as I held his hand and told him, “Pa, you have to fight. No matter how much debt I accumulate, we’re here for you. Please fight for us.”
Seeing my father in that condition was unbearable, but he truly fought hard. Being admitted to a public hospital was challenging — running back and forth to buy medicine, trying to ensure he had everything needed to survive. By then, his heart was already very weak.
On December 24, 2024, his vital signs stabilized, but his heart couldn’t function without oxygen. He could no longer speak clearly, as they had inserted a tube for his breathing and feeding. Despite everything, we (my daughter, my brother, and I) celebrated Christmas at the hospital. We had no place to sleep and stayed outside, ready to be called if there was a need.
My daughter, his favorite grandchild, was with us. Out of his four grandchildren, only two grew up close to him, and my daughter had always been special to him. He was even present during her birth, witnessing her delivery while my husband struggled with fear.
This picture when she was young together with my father on her birthday.
In the hospital since my daughter was underage, she wasn’t allowed inside easily. The best we could do was video call him, showing that we were just outside and reminding him to stay strong. But there was one moment when, unnoticed by the guard, we managed to sneak her into the hospital room. My daughter and her grandfather embraced and cried together. The love between them was undeniable.
My father had always been her protector, her shelter even when she was in the wrong. We thought he was getting better, but he passed away from pneumonia in the hospital. His heart couldn’t take it anymore.
As his children, we were all grieving. Little did I know my daughter was also deeply affected. While reading her letter, I couldn’t help but cry. I tried to be strong for my family, but her words broke me. It’s been four months since my father passed, and only now do I realize what my daughter has been going through.
Now I understand why she always asks to visit her grandfather’s grave. She often talks about how much she loves him. She feels like she’s lost her biggest ally.
On April 15, 2025, during her Grade 10 completion ceremony, I overheard her talking to my father’s picture, saying, “Daddy, I graduated. I know you’re proud of me. I graduated With Honors, Dy, just as I promised you. I’ll always do my best.” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but feel proud and emotional.
But reading her letter today made me realize that she has been fighting her own silent battle. I’ve promised myself to always be here for her, to support her in everything she wants to do.
Thank you, Hivers, for allowing me to share my feelings today. Writing this has been overwhelming but comforting.
