It is not enough to tell someone you love them on a regular basis if there is no passion and fire behind the statement.  We often say the words, “I love you” without really feeling the meaning of them.  Yeah, we know what the words mean, ”You matter to me… I care about what happens to you.” But people have different types of personalities: there are the expressive types and the not-so-expressive types.

My father belonged to the latter type.  He was never showy - not in words or in actions.  I have never heard him say those words to me nor do I remember him embracing me or holding me close.  I know most people are scared of him, some are probably terrified to be near him.  I mean, who wouldn't?  My father always wore a scowl on his face and he had such a big, booming voice. 

I admit, he was not the perfect father like Dr. Heathcliff Huxable of the The Cosby Show.  Very few people really knew the real him.  Because  behind the scowl and the big voice is a sensitive, caring man.  And he had his own peculiar ways of showing that he cared. 

I remembered the time when I was little, my foot got entangled with the root of a pine tree, my father took care of the scrape on my knee.  Or the times when me and my brothers would sit at his feet, listening to his scary ghost stories. Or the times that he would help me with my algebra assignments.  Or the times that he would stay up late whenever my husband (who was my suitor then) would come calling.  

I love my papa like any daughter should. But I guess, I am very much his daughter because like him, I do not show my feelings too. There were plenty of times that I wanted to say how much I love him but I couldn't bring myself to say it - not even on his birthday cards.

When he suddently fell ill in September 2010, my world slowly came crushing down on me. I wanted to tell him then that I love him so much, that he is very dear to me. But I still couldn't utter the words. Even when his brain was operated on twice and he was laying in the ICU, unable to see and speak, I wanted so much to hold him in my arms and whisper in his ears, "I love you very much 'pa. Please be well because we still need you."

And when he finally went home to be with the Lord on January 5, 2011 never hearing me say "I love you", it hurt me to the very core of my being. I regretted big time not telling him those words, but it's too late now.He's forever gone and will never come back. His passing taught me some valuable lessons: To never hesitate saying "I love you" if you feel like saying it; to never wait until your love one is already on his deathbed before you can say those words; and that life is short and anything can happen any time.

Today is his first death anniversary and this blog is dedicated to him.

"Pa, thank you for everything - for your thoughtful ways of showing you care, for making sure that I get the good if not the best education that you can afford. I'm sorry that I never got to tell you how much I love you. I only realized how much your presence meant after you were gone. Your memory will be forever etched in my heart. I LOVE YOU...GOODBYE. Until we meet again."

I have been up since 11 P.M. Thinking about starting my blog...sitting in-front of my computer...mustering enough courage. It's now 2:35 A.M. but still, I don't know how to exactly start . Should I write this like I'm writing on the pages of my diary? But then a diary is supposed to be a record of one's day to day experiences..of her opinion on everything that's going on around her...her pains, her joys, her regrets, her triumphs, isn't it? Private stuff. Strangers will get to read my private thoughts. It's scary, really, just thinking about it. =)

2:58 A.M. OK, here it goes... (taking a deep breath).

These past few years, my life had been in turmoil. It seemed everything had gone from bad to worse that I've even thought about ending it all. I loathed the coming of nighttime because I would just lay awake all night recalling all the past events...asking myself what I had done wrong...how I came to my depressing state. I wasn't so keen to face the dawn either because it marked another beginning of another day...another routine. 

My family didn't know of the hell I was going through because I bottled them all up in. I became an expert on hiding my feelings. I became a pro on keeping up a false front. I was smiling even though I was hurting inside...I was laughing even though all I wanted to do was to weep.

To keep my mind off things, I kept myself busy with taking care of my son, doing my scrapbooking projects, meeting friends over lunch or afternoon snack, or chatting with my friends abroad on YM. Everything became a routine for me, I was involved in each of these things - but not REAL-LY involved.

Last night, unable to sleep again, I searched for some music on iTunes, hoping it will lull me to sleep. I clicked and searched almost all music genres, not really sure what kind of music and which station I wanted to listen to. Until I found the SpiritFilledRadio.com and gave it a try. The music was playing on the background while I was reading the Yahoo news. Then the lyrics of the song caught my attention; wondering why the station would play a Christmas song in February. I didn't know what it was, but there was something in it that made me stop what I was doing. 

I wasn't quite satisfied when the song ended, so I searched for it on Youtube. I typed the title and name of the artist(s), "The Christmas Shoes by NewSong". I closed my eyes, listening intently to the lyrics. I played the song three times and at the end of the third time, I cried. I cried like I've never cried in a long time. I don't remember ever that a simple song made me cry. But then it wasn't just a simple song. It was an eye-opener for me. Not only did the song affect me as a mother, it also made me realize that I have created a cocoon around me. Yes, I tried to involve myself in my son's life, my family's, my friends'. But there was still a feeling of isolation...of detachment...of emptiness. 

I realized that I've become too absorbed with myself that I lost sight of what I have been missing in a long time - and that is the role of my maker in my life. I know this sounds overacting, but for the first time in years I bowed my head and prayed, right in front of my pc. I cried all the more as I bared my soul to God. I begged Him to help pull me out of the sinkhole that I am in...to remove this load I've been carrying for a long time, and asked Him to forgive me for taking Him for granted and for not acknowledging His presence before now. I am ashamed to admit that I have been neglectful of my faith.  And my experience last night made me realize that when everything is too much to handle anymore, my Maker, my Savior and Lord, will always be there for me to run to for comfort and be my source of strength.

Jesus said, "Come to me, all you of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest; peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you." Matt. 11:28; John 14:27

I hope you will also like the song as much as I did...and will touch your life as it did mine.♥