Day 282: When Dad Left for his Maker

Imagining life without someone, when have we ever given that a thought? I was the same. But with you gone, life has taken an unexpected turn. I am now looking at things, I never gave a thought. I am reminiscing over events, that once craved my attention. I am lusting for certain aches, that once felt foreign. I am groping for memories, that have slipped through my fingers. I am chasing loves, I never knew existed.

Why does it have to be like this?

More than once, I have thought about it. What if I had to end this pain? But that I have realized is impossible. 9months 9 days is supposed to be a long time. But why does it feel it was only yesterday you crossed over? I bleed afresh with raw wounds, even today, and I try, try in vain, to hide them because no one around wants to see me bleeding. They cringe at the sight of them. An awkward silence envelops the air around me upon the mention of you, and my heart begins to weep again. Why is it that people don’t want to talk about the ones who’ve left and gone? Why are they so eager to have you wipe them out of your life, out of your memories?

Why does grief feel like a social taboo?

I pretend, and now I am tired of pretending too. How can life move on at a pace such as nothing really happened? There are gaping holes around, in the skies above, in the grounds underneath my feet, in the air I breathe. Isn’t that why I feel choked, lost, empty, everywhere I look? Will those voids ever be filled? Who knows! I keep holding on to you, repeating your name, and in the space between sleep and dreams, you seem to be there. Because dad, trust me, without you, going on feels as stupid as chasing butterflies – you know you are never gonna get one and will be left feeling disappointed, in the end, but you chase nonetheless.

Why does ending it all feels like the only way out?