i try not to think about it too much, but the days are approaching.
papa is scheduled for his heart bypass operation this saturday, the 16th, and my sister, Honey, and our two kid stepsisters, and our long-time nanny, will be going with me by boat to manila on the 14th.
it would just be a simple heart bypass operation, with the chances of success quite high, i know. but papa has been in and out of the ICU for almost 9-10 times in the past nine months, with his trips to the hospital getting to be more frequent lately, due to complications caused by his diabetes. his lungs can barely be seen in the x-rays too, having been eroded by around 50 years of chain-smoking...
what causes me dread, though, is his general demeanor every time i see him. he seems to have gotten older and frailer and weaker and more despondent every time. add to that the fact that his falling out with his mistress-- the mother of our two kid stepsisters -- is not doing him any good emotionally.
maybe, it is just his mistress' way of coping with the situation -- prettying her self up ( i do that, too) -- but family talks behind her back, saying she has another man. one time, we did talk, while we were at the hospital. she cried when she told me how difficult it is living with a man like my father who was so controlling and pessimistic and quite verbally abusive... i understood her pain and told her so. and despite the pain she has also caused our family, i feel sorry for her. i actually choose to believe her, rather than all the evil things family says she's been up to, like only wanting our father for his money and leaving him now that she sees she won't be getting much from him at all (our only brother helped papa settle his papers and his will some months ago and everybody has an idea of where things are at)...
what am i doing, rambling on like this, shaking up the skeletons in the closet?
i am just sooo scared i guess.
nobody talks about it, but the common decision for us children to come together and be with him for his heart bypass operation is our silent way of acknowledging the fear and the possibility that this might be the last time we see him alive, and that at least, he has all of us his children around him when he goes.
still, i am so scared.
papa is only 66.