Life often has a way of throwing us unexpected twists, and the most important moments in our lives can change in an instant. I experienced that first-hand on a day that started with pure joy and ended in devastating grief.

It was one of the most significant days for my husband. It was his white coat ceremony during his residency, a milestone we had been looking forward to ever since we got married in medical school. I had spent the morning preparing myself, excited to accompany him to the ceremony, filled with pride and joy as I watched him take another step in his medical career.

But before the ceremony, I was on my knees, praying for my father in the Philippines, who had suffered a massive stroke a month prior. I prayed for his healing, but I also surrendered him to God’s will, asking for strength to accept whatever happened.

When my husband’s name was called, I felt a surge of pride and happiness. There he was, standing beside his program director as he was officially dressed in his long white coat. It was official—my husband was in residency! This was the moment we had been waiting for, and it was everything we had dreamed of since our wedding day.

After the ceremony, we celebrated with dinner and took a few pictures with his new white coat. Both of us were beaming with smiles from ear to ear. But then, just as we were enjoying the moment, I received a text from my little brother. He simply said, “Dad is finally resting.” At first, I didn’t fully understand what that meant, and so I responded, “Good.” Moments later, my other brother called to tell me that our father had passed away earlier that day.

The words hit me like a ton of bricks. My heart dropped, and the happiness I had felt moments before seemed to vanish in an instant. I could barely comprehend what was happening. I broke down in tears, and we excused ourselves to leave. As we stood in the lobby, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I sobbed uncontrollably, my mind racing in disbelief. I had just prayed for God’s will, but I never imagined that He would take my dad that day. It felt unreal that my dad was gone. I hadn’t even seen him since I came to the States.

On the ride home, I could barely speak. I was overwhelmed with grief. I flashed back to all the memories I had of my dad. He had always been a shy person, and our father-daughter bond was not as close as I had hoped for. But that only made me cherish the small moments we did have together.

Once home, I called my mom, who told me more about what had happened, along with the details of the wake and funeral. It was still the pandemic, so only a limited number of people were allowed to attend the wake.

Though my husband’s workplace offered to send me to the Philippines with a roundtrip ticket, the travel restrictions meant I would need to get a COVID vaccine and quarantine for two weeks before I could attend my father’s funeral. My mom, realizing how long the quarantine would take, advised me not to come back for the wake, as it would only be a few days long.

The grief I felt in those days was overwhelming. I couldn’t stop crying, and I didn’t even celebrate my birthday, which was just days after my dad passed away. It felt so strange to be celebrating life while grieving such a painful loss.

In honor of my dad, I bought a succulent and named it after him. It became a small symbol of life continuing, a reminder that though my father was no longer with us, his spirit would live on. I regretted not telling him how much I loved him and how I loved listening to his advice. I regretted not giving him the biggest hug before leaving for the States. I never knew that would be the last time I’d see him.

But even in my pain, I find solace in knowing that one day, I will see my dad again. He is free from pain, free from illness, and I take comfort in the thought that we will meet again someday.

Mi Familia 🙂