“I thought it was a mall. It wasn’t.”

     When I was four years old, my parents and I would always spend our time together in the mall. Even if it was the only type of bonding we have together, I treasured it since this was the only time that I felt they made time for me. They were both doctors so my childhood consisted of me eating, playing, and watching television with the babysitter. I was very lonely but I never thought that things could go even worse.

     One day, I was surprised to see my Mom together with all of Dad’s family come home. They were all in a hurry and she told me to get dressed quickly. I followed her and after a few minutes, we were all inside the car going to some unknown destination, at least for my part.

     After an hour, we arrived in a wide commercial building. I saw taxicabs picking up passengers and people, who were carrying bags in different sizes, went inside and outside the building. I thought it was a mall when an airplane took off in the sky. I was confused. I was just about to ask what that place was when I saw my Dad. Because of my excitement on seeing him, I did not notice the look of surprise in his face. I was about to run to him when I felt someone stopping me. It all happened so fast. One minute I was struggling from their clutches and then the next thing I know, he was walking toward the building. I was shouting his name while trying to break free. I was panicking. I didn’t know what to do or what was happening but I got the feeling that everything was wrong. Just when I thought that he was about to look at me and come back, he didn’t. He continued going inside. That was the last time I saw him.

     Everything was a blur after that. I couldn’t remember what happened. I was a child back then and for me, things should not be complicated. I thought that parents would never leave their children. However, I was wrong. My mom told me that I wouldn’t speak for a week and that I cried every time before going to sleep.

     There was one thing I do remember.  It was when I asked her his reason for leaving us. Her reply would always be explaining why he had to work there to make a living for us and that it was only temporary. “He will come back soon. Don’t worry.” She always reassured me with this countless of times.  It served as my beacon of hope despite my incapability to comprehend the practicality of the situation. I held on to this belief even if things were so confusing.

     Hours, days, weeks, months led to twelve years of waiting and giving up on something that is impossible to happen. My sister and I grew up without a father. My parents separated even if my Mom was newly pregnant before he left. He did not come back or even visited just as he promised he would. From web chats, to phone calls and now only through Facebook messaging did we still talk to him. Our conversations are mostly composed of him asking us basic questions like “How was school? What are we interested now? Do you take your vitamins?” and after a few more painful pleasantries, he would say that he already sent money. We would only thank him and that is it. That is our only interaction. We still call him Dad but for my part, it’s just a sign of respect and obligation. I don’t feel the weight or importance of giving him that title anymore. Could you blame me? I don’t know him anymore. Memories that I have of him were blurry. I could not even bring myself to tell him “I love you.” unlike when I was a little girl or even imagine the time when we would meet again. 

     Thinking back, I couldn’t help but wonder if things would be greater or worse if he didn’t leave. So many questions going inside my head that I know would never be answered because what’s done is done. Things and feelings change over the years and even if this was my experience, I have no words to conclude this because this feeling of confusion is still on going. Ask me again after a few years and we’ll see.