For the first time since Tatay passed away six years ago, he came to me in my dream.
In my dream, he held my hand firmly. He gave me reassuring words that everything will work out. He said they are talking things out as we speak.
In my dream, his hand felt so real. It was stronger than I remember. It was warm and full of life. It was comforting.
I have asked him to come to me since the day he left. He never came. Perhaps it is because he knows when exactly I would need him. For the past weeks, I have been asking for his help and intervention. Perhaps he knows this is the right time.
Salamat, Tay. Tulad ng sinabi ko sa iyo noon bago ka nagpahinga, kami na ang bahala kay Nanay.
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Published by beingKirei
I started this digital journal initially for self-expression -- because this is what I do. I write for my profession and for my passion.
Then it dawned on me that what I was doing was selfish.
I found new inspiration in Proverbs 31:8: Speak for those who cannot speak; seek justice for all those on the verge of destruction.
Through the years, I have met people from various walks of life with stories that deserve to be told. Unfortunately, not all of them have the gift of gab. So I presented myself to them, giving them the voice that they need to share their stories. Stories that inspire, cry out, reach out, provide unspoken truth.
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