Surrogate Father. (Rest in Peace)

When I was... ten or eleven, in fourth or fifth grade (I don't exactly remember when it started), my mother got close with someone. At first I treated him like everyone else: he was still a stranger, after all. But then everything went well, and shortly, he became a father figure to me.

Ever since my father died when I was just seven, there have been a lot of men in relationships with my mother. They come and go. At first I thought this man would be the same as the others, but he wasn't. The relationship even lasted for three years or so. They broke up when I had just entered junior high school. But that's another story, and I will not elaborate further on that.

Let's just call him Mr. Dahlan. That's his real name, actually. He was our neighbor, we live in the same poor-neighborhood area. He rented his cars for a living, and at that time my mother needed someone to drive my sick sister to the hospital. We don't have any choice but to rent his car, and surprisingly, he offered to drive us to the hospital himself. The same thing often happened again, as my sister's health is not getting any better. She had osteoporosis and bad health in general, so we often went to one hospital after another, we even had to go to some shady alternative/traditional clinics, which, obviously, didn't work (but my mother still believes in those).

This man, unlike any of my mother's ex-boyfriends, didn't only try to be close to her but also to us (her children) as well. He drives me to school and even picks me up every day, joking and playing with us, buying us things, taking us to eat outside, and even cooking/gardening by himself. Yeah, he wasn't embarrassed to help with household chores. He even taught us a thing or two. He was a widower like my widowed mother for a long time, so he used to take care of himself. That's one of the reasons I liked him, and it was like I had a father again. I always knew when a man was not sincere about being a part of our family, and like I said before, he was different. I liked his efforts to try to get along with us, and most importantly, unlike my mother, he was a very patient person. He never got angry at us even when we annoyed him, and he was just a fun guy to be around. I remembered sometimes we liked to just sit together with a cup of coffee in the middle of the night, enjoying the night sky and breeze. Because of him, my mother became a better person too, at least for a while (before they broke up).

Life goes well. My family feels whole again, and my whippersnapper self proudly told my friends that he was my cool new dad (even though he and my mother were never married). Every weekend we went out to eat outside, and he would buy me books, even now in high school, I still like to read all of them fondly. For a brat like me at that time, every little thing meant a lot. And those were such wonderful mementos from him.

Wait, mementos?

Yes, a few years after their breakup, my mother became worse. I tried to assure/convince everyone (including myself) that everything would be ok, but obviously it wouldn't. I was just bullshitting myself through life. It was sad that they had to break up. Their relationship was not short, it was a long journey with many memories. But maybe that was for the better. I know he won't leave us just for some petty reasons. We never spoke again because since then, I have rarely even seen him. I think he moved further from his former house. I don't know the reasons. Maybe he couldn't bear seeing us again. It's disappointing, but I respect his choice. My mother is not an easy woman to be with.

As of today, June 10th, 2022, I got shocking news from my mother. Mr. Dahlan has been hospitalized since yesterday. She said it was a stroke, and he fell into a coma. She said that even the doctor and his family think his chance of surviving is very low. It was so sudden, because I don't remember he had any kind of illnesses or symptoms before. But alas, he was a heavy smoker. Maybe that's what got him in the first place. The last time I saw him was a long time ago, but still, why would such things happen to him so suddenly? What exactly happened to him since he disappeared? I felt sad and wary.

Then a few moments later his family told my mother he was declared brain dead by the hospital. Stroke got him that fast? No way. I wish I had visited him in the hospital. But it's too late. And I don't even know where. I think my mother didn't want me to know where. I feel so stupid. Why didn't I just find out the location myself? I really, really wish I could see him for the last time. I didn't know God would take him so fast.

Rest in peace, dad. Thanks for the good memories, you were truly like a father to me (this is not a pewdiepie joke, shut up).