Paps, it's been a week since you were buried, nineteen days since we went to the hospital.
There's a big void left in our hearts when you earned your wings.
I still cry at night, or at every moment I think of you. Maybe Ate and LA too.
Mama is devastated. I know she is strong and she's trying to get her smile back, but she can't help it, not only because you're gone, but because half of her existence is gone. You're half of each other, right?
Everyday is going to feel incomplete because you are not physically with us, but I am also happy for you. I know you're gliding ang sliding up there, with your Nanay and Tatay, Lola Caria, and bestfriend Lola Eyay, (haha) and other relatives and former neighbors. I know you are playing mahjong all the time and you've probably taken all your opponents' chips. And if you get bored, you are having the time of your afterlife playing golf there, without any handicap at all -cause you're that good- and kicking all their asses. Maybe your hair has grown there, so you would no longer think of getting a wig, even if it's only one of your jokes before.
You've been the best father one can ever have and I believe, the best husband ever. Thank you for that. Sorry for the difficult times we've had. I know you know that already, but I just want to say it again.
Oh, the three musketeers miss you a lot and they still think you're their superhero, their super lolo, the one who gave them the best and most expensive toys, their best playmate. They love you so much, Paps. They cried a lot too. But being kids, they are better at coping than us adults. They dream of you at night too. Well, me too.
We love you Pamsie and we miss you sooooo much. I wish it didn't happen all that fast, but who are we to contradict His orders or deviate from His plans?
P.S. Your clients are asking me to continue what you were doing for their offices. I don't know where to start. A little clue from up there would be really appreciated.