He Never Left: Musings of an OFW’s Child

 He Never Left: Musings of an OFW’s Child

by: Julliane Gayle A. Tan

 

There are four chairs, but only three are occupied.

 

I grew up in a loving family of four. My brother and I were taught how to value and maintain the bond that we had ever since we were little kids. Before my father left the country to work as a seaman, we would have meals together and talk about the most random things. That is something that seems so ordinary and normal, but I consider it as one of the activities that deserve a higher degree of appreciation. 

 

            I only remember fragments of the 20 to 30 minutes we spent together every time we ate. That is because it was something I took for granted back then. You see, my father embraced the angels of heaven in 2014. He left a lot of fond memories and lessons we still cherish up until this very moment. Notice how I did not say “He left us” because I believe he never did. 

 

I still recall how he would cook breakfast for us—the aroma lingering around and greeting us once we wake up. I also remember how he would blast music on our speakers every morning while humming to his favorite songs together with my mother. Some timely examples include Christmas Eves in which my brother and I watch holiday movies while our parents prepare the food for Noche Buena. The cold breeze of every Christmas season feels nostalgic.

 

            Stories like this are often met with pity, grief, or melancholy. However, happiness radiates from me whenever I get the chance to talk about those lovely days. In the present, I like to think of my father as an adventurer. I guess we all do. Whenever my family and I eat, we talk about him as if he is still physically present. We get to share the remnants of the past that help us remember him more. Although I long for him, I feel as if he is just on another escapade. 

 

            However, I do not get blinded by dangerous delusions. I have fully accepted the fact that it is impossible for him to come back to our humble home, but that does not mean he has abandoned us. Perhaps he is waiting for us somewhere in this vast universe. We will never know until we get there. 

 

            There are four chairs, but only three are occupied. The vacant seat is for the adventurer who loves traveling and venturing deep into the unknown. Someday, these chairs will be permanently unoccupied. When that time comes, it only means that we have already gone on another adventure as a family—a fresh start to a whole new life of possibilities and a mark of an endless realm of explorations.