In less than a year, I lost two fathers; my children, both their grandfathers. Dad said goodbye abruptly, just a few minutes after having lunch together and our usual chat in my office, Oct. 22 of last year. He suffered a heart attack while traveling to see my brother.

Then, last Sunday, I lost my father-in-law.

Last Friday, September 15, at just about the same time I was preparing for Gabriel's mini-party in school, my father in law was riding his motorcycle on his way home from his farm in Makilala, North Cotabato when he was hit by another motorcyclist, who was also fatally injured. My father in law suffered a skull fracture, broken ribs, punctured lungs and spent two days in the ICU bravely fighting for his life. When he flat-lined and while the doctors fought to revive him, and in response to pleas ("Pa, wag muna, dadating sina Manong Miguel, hintayin mo (Pa, don't leave us yet, big brother Miguel and his family are on their way, please wait for them)..." he responded by tightening his grasp on my sister-in-law's hand. But his injuries and the infection took the best of him.

I must admit that this is especially hard for us as Papa was still strong as an ox despite his age, daily overseeing production in his farms, that the idea of him passing seemed farfetched for all of us. The idea of him going that way has left all of us shaken.

We never really stop needing our parents. And while we know that death isn't a question of if, but when, and we know the ones we love will one day pass on, when they do go it's always painful, always just too soon.