Sardines

IMAG0188.jpg, originally uploaded by NCVillamar.

I miss my father.

I miss him all the time, but I really miss him today. A lot of things make me think of him, and that's okay, because even though when I think of him I get a lump in the back of my throat, and that sort of hollow feeling inside, I like thinking of him. Whenever I think of him, I try to say it out loud, especially if my kids are in the same room, because I want them to be familiar with the word "Papa," and I want them to feel his presence in my life. Because to me, that means that he will be present in their lives, and they will sort of know him, even if only through my talking about him every time I miss him, which is all the time.

What triggered my missing my father today was seeing a tin of sardines in my food pantry. When I moved to Baltimore I was only 25 years old and I didn't know anyone here. The furthest I had ever lived away from my parents was 60 miles. My parents were always worried about me, but they were so good about letting me go. They used to send me care packages because I missed Filipino food. My father always added a couple of tins of sardines -- the exotic kind in spicy sauces. I always told him he didn't have to do that, because although when I lived at home I ate them whenever my father ate them, I didn't really want any. But he said that I should just keep them in the pantry, so that I would have something to eat and would never go hungry, even if I ran out of food.

Inevitably, because I was a poor law student, and because I hated grocery shopping, I would run out of food. I savored the sardines with crackers and cheese, and to me, they tasted absolutely luxurious. In the next care package, I always found more tins of sardines.

Sardines make me feel loved.

I miss my father.