Father’s Day Today’s Episode

June 16, 2006

My favorite uncle had a stroke the other day, his second in less than a year.

Uncle Mat had his first stroke in mid-day in front of his office in Cebu. He was alighting from his car when suddenly he felt the ground heaving towards him. Good thing there was a standing-by guard on the front door when that happened. He was rushed to the hospital and he knew right then he would never be able to talk straight, eat straight, or even smile decently.

I was saddened when I heard the news of his first attack, more so when I saw him last semester break. He was scrawny, but he laughed more often and kidded with us. His beer consumption has dropped dramatically but he still drinks and smoke cigarette like as if he has never lost a healthy vein in his brain.

He is my favorite uncle, alright, although his life is close to what you can consider a mess. He and his wife broke up almost ten years ago, leaving highly dysfunctional children who are into sex, drugs, and limbo of sanity and insanity. He has extreme fond of girls, too, which is quiet not a surprise considering his boyish sport at age 50.

He is my mom’s best friend, as I was once told, since they practically grew up together. That is why his’ and our family was particularly close.

When his family separated, he decided to stay with us and left his children to his wife. (I really hate his wife, just to make things clear first). I was in fifth grade then and the house became unusually busy when he was around. There was drinking session almost every night with my father, our house boy and his driver, and occasionally with his kumpadres. They would drink all-night, and him ranting, and cussing about how filthy his (ex)wife was. That went on for a year and then another until he transferred to Cebu shortly before I finished high school.

Uncle Mat assumed a fatherly role to us way before my father died, more so after it. I am thankful for his mere presence though we hardly see each other. It makes me feel secured that there is this one old man who can stand up for us whenever the need for it arises. He gives me this same feeling with the way my father assured me of things, of life, of the future.

When I learned of his second attack yesterday, I felt anger discharging up to my head. I was angry at him because he doesn’t know how to love himself, not even care about it. Last Christmas, this was this large dispute at home with my mom, my cousins and his children convincing him to stop all his vices. I joined at it for the first time because I really really want to tell him to do so. I just don’t want to lose another father, I guess.

But there. He had another stroke. And I am all scared because it happened. What a gift from the heavens for my birthday, and a week before father’s day.