Today Evelyn and I went to church.  I asked my Uncle if he wanted to go…he said no.  I told Evelyn he doesn’t have faith.  Evelyn says he’s scared.  That Uncle P does have faith, but he’s scared.  That he knows the wrong he has done. 

This man has already had two heart attacks, and he is still alive.  He kept telling my sister and me how he’s ready to go, to die.  That he has made his peace with God.  But that he thinks God is punishing him.  Umm…yup, God is!   My Dad was never worried about my Uncle Julio or Tita Sevilla.  He knew they were people of faith.  My Uncle P on the other hand…he needs a lot of work.  His soul is not pure.  He will never be re-united with my Dad or his family like this.  It is what you do in this lifetime that matters…and he continues to do wrong.  And then my sister and I realize:  that’s it.  If Dad died in the United States, I wouldn’t think twice about my Uncle.  I just felt like he was a lost soul.  But now I realize my Dad wants my sister and I need to guide my Uncle on the right path, and prepare him, so he can re-unite with his family.  I mean, he’s not even in line for the gates in heaven…and every time he had a heart attack, I can just see God and Dad's family saying, P, you are not ready.  You still need to make things right.  I pray for him.  I want to believe that with my Dad's passing, that he wants to make things right to…but I’ll have to be honest.  I’m not holding my breath.

Last night I had a dream of Mom and Dad.  I felt like I was in and out of consciousness.  In my dream I was on this journey looking for them.  I’m in some home and someone tells me, your Mom and Dad are outside.  They are looking for you.  I run out of the house.  It’s large green grass area, and just passed the grassy lawn, it’s the beach.  It’s sunny and beautiful.  It feels so real.  I’m running, yelling Mom Dad where are you.  I’m here.  I look towards the left, and there is a hill of sand.  People are walking down it.  I see Dad.  I run to him and I hug him.  He is happy.  I ask him, where is Mom, I look at the hill, and there she is walking down it.  I run to Mom and hug her.  She tells me…”will didn’t forget about your birthday anak.”  I immediately wake up.  I’m crying and overwhelmed.  Dad is at peace, and with Mom.  I miss them both so much.

Unfortunately, our accommodation situation isn’t the best...meaning we are staying with my Uncle P.  I feel so numb when it comes to him.  Now that things have come out, everyone is telling him how we were wronged.  All of a sudden, he says he is going to “help” us.  But to be honest, it’s a bunch of bullshit.  What he says to my sister and I has nothing to do about my Dad.  It is about him.  My Dad called my Uncle, and told him to come and see him; my Dad felt the presences of death coming near.  And you know what?  My Uncle didn’t go.  When my sister and I first arrived to the Philippines and when we saw him, Uncle P  didn’t ask how we were, and didn’t check in with us.  All he could do was talk about how he couldn’t see my Dad because he was really sick, too.  To be honest, I think it’s a bunch of bullshit.  If Evelyn was sick and told me to see her, even if I was sick, I would go.  I would go and see my sister.  She is my only sister.  That’s love.  My Uncle knows nothing about what love is.  He continues to try and make my Dad lose face. 

Yesterday morning, when we went to his hospital we were greeted by his Administrative person, saying your Uncle is waiting for you in the conference room.  Really!  Then he brings us upstairs.  What the hell, am I back home going to a Board Meeting.  When my sister and I arrive up there, we are sitting at this table…my sister, me, my Uncle Julio (who my Dad’s other brother, and is the most loving person), his wife, my Uncle P, and his Administrative Assistant.  My Uncle P is pretty much the only person talking.  He begins to say things like, "You know your Dad didn’t come to my hospital because he couldn’t afford it?"  Hmm…really?  My Dad was retired United States Navy and has the best health care.  He had access to the veterans Hospital here.  Then he says, "You know your Dad told me, I’m not as rich as you, P.  I used all my money for my daughter’s educations."  Hmm…really?  My Dad was rich in so many ways.  He had a beautiful home in San Diego, has two successful educated daughters (who earned their way, and weren’t handed anything on a silver platter like a cousin I know); he was loved and respected by his community and extended family in San Diego, and the list just can go on and on.  As I sat in that room, I thought to myself, what the hell is this about?   Not to mention, why in the hell is the Administrative person part of this conversation?  We don’t even know him.  This is just another example of the Mickey Mouse charades my Uncle continues to play.  And I continue to lose respect for him.  Not that I had any to begin with.  What kind of brother are you, I ask myself.  My Uncle has some major issues.  I feel like he continues to tell lies, lies in which he believes, because again it’s about him.  I feel like he needs these lies, to avoid the fact that he feels a lot of guilt.

10:52am (Philippines)
Everything is now coming into full circle.  The plan last night faltered, but it did for a reason.  My sister and my work here is not done.  This woman’s true colors unveiled in full force last night.  She is truly a bad, evil woman.  She was so sneaky.  When the final stages of cremation are going on, the back area is typically a secured place, and no one is allowed back there.  However, since my Dad’s half-sister knew the Director of the funeral place, people were allowed to go in and out of the restricted area. When the final stages of the cremation came, this woman went to the room and had them lock the door.  People were knocking and banging on the door, saying let the children go in to see their Dad.  When it was done, she walked out with the urn – sealed.  She was yelling at Kuya Will, demanding he put all the ashes in the urn, and seal it.  Which we learned is not common there after ashes are placed in the urn.  My Aunt T, Dad’s brother's wife, told her, when she walked out, go let the children hug their Dad, but she didn’t let us.  She just left. 

But that’s when the wheels started to move in motion.  How God, Dad, and Mom planned it.  This is about Dad, this is how Evelyn and I are going to make things right.

After the cremation, my Aunt T realized that my sister had paid for the entire funeral.  No one knew that.  I guess in the Philippines, the credit card receipt is not what they considered the original receipt…it’s actually this filled out document that says original receipt on it.  And that woman’s name was on it.  She also kept bragging how she paid for everything.  That night, Evelyn and I had enough!  We became the determined Rodriguez sisters we know; the sisters who will continue to go up to bat for Dad and will get things done…the right way.  No shortcuts and with pure hearts and only good intentions…that’s how Mom and Dad would want it.

4:15pm (Philippines)
And the roller coaster continues.  Mom was right, M can’t be trusted.  Evelyn told me that Mom came to her in a dream this summer and told her that.  Dad was right: don’t rely on others to help you.  You must help yourself.  And that’s what I just did.  In the next three hours I will confirm if it worked.  As expected this woman changed her mind.  Now saying she wants to keep all of Dad’s ashes.  When just yesterday afternoon she took my sister outside and told her we can come up with an agreement together.  She tried to ask my sister and me to help her get and emergency visa to come to the US.  At the end of it she was all fine about splitting the ashes, we told her we were fine with that as long as she committed to bury the other half with his Mom.  She agreed.  But today, she went crazy, and she yelled at my sister.  She was hysterical about my Dad’s passport.  She wanted  it back.  But we had to surrender it to the US Embassy.  When I saw Evelyn walk out of the back room crying, that was the last straw.  I tried to talk rationally with her, but this immature, psychotic woman, just didn’t listen.  When I would look straight at her, in her eyes, she couldn’t even look at  me.  All I just saw was pure evil from her.  I knew I couldn’t trust her, I couldn’t trust anyone – so I did what Vicky does best, negotiate.  But not with her, I did with the people, the hard workers, who work day in and day out at the funeral place.  And I begged, I pleaded, I asked please, please help us.  My sister and I just want to make this right.  I was in a frenzy, trying to figure out what to do.  Ate Jo and Kuya Will from the funeral place couldn’t believe what they were hearing.  They kept telling my sister and me that we have rights since we are the children of our father.  We kept telling them, we have no rights, we are US Citizens.  The mass was going to start and I found Kuya Will, I told him I will pay you anything, please put the ashes aside.  He looked at me, and didn’t want the money.  But then the mass was to start.  When they opened the doors to roll in Dad’s coffin in Kuya Will looked at me and gestured his head to nod yes.  God, Dad, Mom I know you are watching out for Evelyn and I.  And I know you want to make things right.  And we will.  We can.  And now I wait…

4:30pm (Philippines)
This morning I called Jac to update her with what was going on.  She updated Em and Em called me right away.  She told my sister and me that she contacted the State Department and that they said not to help this woman get into the United States.  The State Department has seen these cases too many times, and they are afraid this woman will try to blackmail us.  Evelyn and I are just so desperate, that we would do anything just to get Dad home. 

The one victory that happened today was that we were able to get Dad’s passport, and we surrendered it to the US Embassy.  We prayed so hard this morning, we prayed to God, to Mom, to Dad – to please give us the strength and courage to get the passport from this woman, as she had all of Dad’s items in her possession.  And we got it.  And when I crossed the Security Gate at the US Embassy I felt this over-whelming feeling…  Rushing to Room J, where Jas, our US Embassy rep, who silently was hoping and praying for my sister and I, was going to be.  As I picked up the phone in the room to call the operator - knowing that it was already lunch time for them and nervous that she wouldn’t be there - a gentleman picked up the other line, I took a deep breath and asked is Jas there.  His reply, is this Vicky…she’s been waiting for you.  I sat in that room, she pulled up the blinds and there she was, looking at me through the glass window, I could see her relief that my sister and I were able to get Dad’s passport.  She immediately canceled it.  She came back, and said all we need is the certified copy of the Death Certificate and our Record of Death for Dad was going to be done.  I looked at her, tears running down my face and placed my hand on the window…she looked at me, her eyes watering up, and I said to her.  I know you don’t know me, and I don’t know you…but thank you, thank you, for helping my sister and me.  She says to me, I’ve been praying for you both.

I know Dad had a document about bringing his whole body back to the US, but it’s looking more like it won’t happen.  I’ve been reflecting – this has been a hard journey, but I’m trying to come to terms that Dad passed away in the Philippines for a reason.  I know Dad struggled a lot with his own Mom’s death, and in Dad fashion instead of talking or sharing it with us about it, Dad dealt with it in his own ways.  When the cremation option came up, Evelyn and I was a firm, absolutely not!  I think we have had to go on this emotional ride of learning why this may be what Dad actually wanted.  This is totally Dad – a story he’s probably sharing with the angels already.  How his daughters came to the Philippines to bring him home, how this woman’s true colors came out, how we tried to figure out a compromise – to realizing all along Dad does want part of him resting with his mom, and that he wants part of him next to mom.  I still don’t know what this journey has in stored.  What it’s teaching me is patience, honesty, forgiveness.  When mom dies I remember this indifferent feeling about my faith and God.  I was so stuck in this analytical narration about death, pain, hurt. 

As I reflect during this journey with dad’s death, I realize my faith in God, my love for Mom and Dad, has guided me.  They are with Evelyn and me, and are giving us strength, sending us all their love and guidance.  They are making sure we don’t lose site of what really matters.  To stay strong, and know God will prevail.  When I was hitting such a low, I was getting so sad and depressed.  When I felt powerless and a victim, I realized NO, I will not allow this!  Stop!  You are not a victim, you are fighter.  And I am never alone.  Evelyn has been my pillar when I am weak.  My family isn’t necessarily what blood line you are from.  That has just been proven with the way my Uncle has been acting.  Mom and Dad had it right when they left the Philippines and never turned back.  They raised Evelyn and I with the best intentions and values.  I love them and thank them for that.  They instilled the core values I need to be a good honest loving person.  I look forward to the day we re-unite as a family, but not yet.  My work is not done here yet.

3:33pm (Philippines)
I don’t even know how I got the courage to pick up a pen and write.  Jac told me – try and journal, I know that’s going to be hard, but to release your thoughts.  Dad passed away on October 22in the Philippines, and my biggest nightmare is being lived out right now.  His “woman” is disputing my sister and me on bringing his body home, which are his written wishes.  I feel so low right now.  I’m in a country where I don’t know the law.  My Uncle – Dad’s brother – is a bust!  I don’t get him.  He is my Dad’s full-blooded brother.  We have never asked for anything from him, never; but we’ve asked him to help us honor Dad’s wishes, but all he is doing is making a Mickey Mouse show out of this. 

And then my sadness turns into anger; raging anger - where I actually wish ill on this woman.  Her true colors have prevailed.  She yelled at my sister, and said she was going to throw her out of the funeral home.  And what did my Uncle do?  Nothing!  Kar is right, this is in Gods hands.  And I believe God won’t let us leave here without his body. 

Mom, I know you are looking down on me – and giving me your strength and courage.  Dad, I know you want to come home.  And I want to make sure it happens.  Lord, I pray – I ask that you come into my heart and give me the courage and strength to get through this.  I ask that my parents, please watch, protect, and guide us so we may re-unite you both together.  Why, why is this even happening?  I don’t understand.  God does not put things in front of us, unless he believes we can handle it.  I know I can handle it this.  But I have to admit, I feel a bit weak. 

6:55pm
Injustice – is what this is.  My Tita N came here and did her best to help us out.  And we came to an “agreement” with this woman, but to be honest this is ridiculous.  The “agreement” is that she would allow Dad’s body to go back to the US, if she could accompany it…fine!  I just want to bring him home.   Why am I allowing this to happen?  I’m sitting in a pew, Dad’s body is in front of me, and his so called “Philippines” family is just hanging around.  Evelyn and I have never felt so alone and isolated in our lives.  This is my Dad’s wake, and we don’t know any of these people.  These people don’t even know who my Dad is; and what my dad is all about.  This woman also tried to barter with my sister and I for my Dad’s body – this is bull-shit!  I feel like she’s going to try and re-negotiate shit, so she can try and get something of Dad's.   No way!  Dad wouldn’t want us to be dealing with this drama.  This is just so wrong.  The one person who is really about my sister and I, but more importantly my Dad, is my Tita N.  But she has to fly out tomorrow morning.  I can’t believe this woman has the nerve to – ugh, I’m at a loss with words.

Waiting indefinitely for the last Virgin American flight out of SFO to SAN....  I'm flying hone with Nala tonight, so I can be with Vix, and we can fly LAX-MNL togethering to be with Dad.  To see Dad.  To bring home his body.  My heart aches just scratching each of these words out....

I don't know how I am.  This morning I made myself smile when I awoke:  Dad is in Heaven, with all the angels and souls who have been awaiting him.  He's laughing and free, able to do everything he imagines-- no longer limited by a body that was increasingly frustrating him....

But then, it strikes me: (is it selfish?)  I'm no longer someone's daughter....  No one knows you and loves you like your parents-- the people who dreamed of you, created and brought you into this world, know every nook and cranny, pretty and ugly side, of you.  And, good or bad, a child can't be demanding-- demand and expect the same degree of indulgence and love-- as they can of the people who've know them since they were born.  I'll never have my Dad step in to defend me, advocate for me, brag for me, so unabashedly and lovingly-- without expecting anything in return-- again.  I can't feel how warm he is, and be surprised at how small or large he is when I hug him.  I can't laugh with him, be outraged by him, tease him, be amazed by him.  I don't know where to find him anymore....  It devastates me.

Got a phone call on the landline at about 5 am.  I knew it had to be not-good news.  But I didn't expect to hear what Vicky said next:  "Dad's gone."...  Her voice was so flat.  I couldn't believe she'd be saying-- she meant-- "Dad has departed from this life."  Because she wouldn't have been so calm.  But she'd been trying to reach me for at least an hour.  So, she was tired.  And numb....

I was shocked.  I am shocked.  How could this happen?  I'd survived such an ordinary, busy day....  I fell asleep on the couch....  I woke up because Nala started barking-- at nothing.  No noise, nobody around.  I remember the thought crossing my mind:  Something's wrong with Dad.  And then I scrubbed it out-- silly, superstitious thinking.  How could anything be wrong?  Dad was going to the VA; if something was wrong, they'd make him better.  They'd keep him and fix him, so that he could come home and be with us for Thanksgiving.... 

That's why I just felt like I couldn't breathe when I heard Vicky.  It couldn't be....  I asked Dad during our Wednesday Skype:  "Do you want to come home Dad?"  "Of course I do."  When he told me that, his voice sounded so... tired.  I remembering thinking, "Des he mean 'home,' like with God?  In Heaven?"