You lay awake sobbing ... pretending to be asleep. I tried to be strong, consciously quelling the emotions that threatened to consume me. I couldnt truly expect you to do the same, although I give you credit for the supreme effort you gave in hiding that very same pain. Every sob stabbed my soul as my eyes burned with unshed tears.
My son ... you have no idea how much strength you imbue me. You have, upon your birth, inspired me to be a better man than I could ever hope to be. I will leave you as you sleep for I know I could never stand the anguish of seeing the pain in your eyes to see me go. I always tell myself that I leave for you ... to provide a brighter future than any employment in the Philippines can ever promise. I just never thought it would be this difficult.
Take care of yourself, my son ... my best buddy ... you are now the man of the house. At your tender age of nine, I pass on the responsibility to be larger than life, and for this, I sincerely apologize. Life has a curious way of tearing our beings in so many different directions as the pain it deals us, as they say, will only makes us stronger. You are far more resilient than you think you are, son ... and as I know I will leave with a heart as heavy as lead, you remain your father's son. I love you, buddy ...
As my last entry was supposed to be dated February 11, 2008, this entry is likewise supposed to be dated February 15, 2008 …
…
Morning in Al-Khor … at 6:00 am, it was cold … yet, no matter how much I tried to drink my sorrow away last night, sleep wouldn’t take me. I stepped out of the palisade unto the beach dock. Even in my thick army jacket, the icy fingers of Doha’s winter crept through and into my clothes … it was freezing. A thick blanket of fog covered everything … the rising sun was but a blurred white disc in the horizon … helpless as I was in my loneliness. There was no warmth … only fog … and cold.
Gazebos, swings, and sandboxes surrounded the dock area, creatively arranged to create mini playgrounds for families visiting in summer. I walked slowly, almost afraid to approach them, but a void within me drew me on.
I sat on a wet bench … just a few meters away from one playground, oblivious to the damp seat … consciously creating an illusion of my Andre’ and Sofia playing on the sand …their laughter echoing in the misty morning, with Sheiryll mindfully looking over them. My family … caught in a reality conjured by my bleeding heart. Someone told me when I was young that grown men don’t cry. Its all bullshit, for I cried until even my soul bled tears. Just as the sun was a caricature of its warmth on that frosty morning, Andre and Sofi’s animated images blurred before me, the falseness of it all, an anathema to a reality I so wanted to create.
I miss you … so much … and although my doubts on my decision to come here continue to distress me, I know all too well that I have to remain steadfast. I cannot turn back.
I must have sat there longer than I intended as it was past seven when I looked up and around. The morning fog was thinned to a slight haze with the sun, once again, imposing its presence over the Qatari desert. I stood up … and looked to the gazebos, swings, and sandboxes, hoping to catch one more glimpse of those I left behind … the playground was empty …