THE LAST WORDS, THE FOREVER LOVE

I was eight years old, in Grade 3, when the world as I knew it changed forever. That morning started like any other – my father woke me up with his warm smile, the same one that made my tummy do little flips of joy. He fixed me my favorite breakfast: fried rice with a perfect sunny-side-up egg, just how I liked it. "Study hard today, anak," he said, ruffling my hair. Those were the last words he ever said to me. 

I don't remember much of that day after school. I came home to find relatives huddled in our living room, their faces wet with tears. My mother held me tight, her body shaking as she whispered that Papa was gone. I didn't understand at first – where could he have gone that he wouldn't come back to tuck me in at night? Where was he when I needed help with my math homework, the subject he always made fun and easy to learn?

What I do remember are the little things that still live in my heart. How he'd carry me on his shoulders whenever we went to the market in Penablanca, pointing out different fruits and telling me silly stories about them. How he taught me to fly a kite in our backyard, patiently untangling the string every time I messed it up. How he'd sing off-key to my favorite nursery rhymes just to make me laugh.

Growing up without him wasn't easy. There were times I felt angry – why did he have to leave so soon? But as I got older, 

I realized he never really left. His lessons about being kind, working hard, and finding joy in simple things stay with me 

every single day. When I graduate from school, when I achieve my dreams, I know he'll be watching over me, smiling that same warm smile.

My father may not be here in person, but his love fills every corner of our home and every beat of my heart. He is my first hero, my forever guide, and no amount of time will ever erase him from my life.