Life is mystery, with so many hidden secrets and a lot of unanswered questions. Some people spend their entire lives trying to solve this riddle called life, while others simply choose to let it flow and enjoy the ride. Of all the riddles that life has to offer, there's none as painful as death. For we do not know what dead people feel, this pain I am referring to is to those who are left behind. Pain so excruciating that no amount of painkillers can take away. Death brings such heartache that even greatest scientists are yet to discover the medicine for. Death to many marks the last time, last laugh, last conversation, last meal, and everything that means a lot to human. Death simply means never being able to see someone forever. Well at least for us who believe in Jesus, until we also die.
I lost my father last week on friday 19th. That is the day will never forget. The pain and all the regrets and thoughts that came flowing into my mind were immeasurable. The pain that even my first break-up does not stand a chance when measured with. A kind of pain that no words will ever be able to explain. Only my heart knows, still does. Regrets of not having used the little I had been given with him wisely, regrets that I did not get a chance to have one more last decent conversation with him. Regrets that I will never be able to hear his voice again. And thoughts of how life was going to change now forever.
I spent my childhood wondering about my biological father. Being a step child to a very Loving stepfather did not leave much room for pain, however I still wondered. I had a song that whenever I thought of him I would find myself singing silently , "daddy wherever you are remember me". And today, for the first time in two years I find myself singing it because I would like to believe that he can hear me now that he is a spirit. I would like to believe that he is somewhere watching me and seeing how much pain and regrets I have for not being such a perfect daughter to him.
My Dad and I didn't know eac other very well, perhaps the fact that I first met him when I was 24years old didn't help much either. He had his faults like all human beings do and most of the time I found myself being irritated by such shortcomings. However I will be lacking gratitude if I fail to comment on what a good father he also was to my siblings, and given a chance he would have been to me as well without a doubt. He spent a lot of time trying to convince my mum to let him mylife, and let him be a part of it. She never allowed it, and I don't blame her because of the pain he had caused her once upon a time. I love my mother, and I do not blame her for never allowing me to have a relationship with my dad and his family because inturn she provided me with a loving family and doting stepfather to me. However, I would give anything right now to just have more time with my dad. Just talk to him, hear him laugh, comment abot my weight or my sister's lack of direction in her career or even hear his voice as he postpones yet again sending me my last instalment for my college fee. Just hear him say anything at all to me.
Death is the finality of everything, the moment they start covering him with dirt only marks the end of tangible him, and that is the moment that hurts the most. I knew my dad for very few years, however it felt like a life time, because now I have it all. The good memories, sour, and the fights and the jokes, he was always so full of life and really a carefree person which was both his best and worst quality. I never said this enough to him when he was alive . . . But I really loved my dad, and whereever he is I hope he knows and sees how much I did and still do.
Remember me Daddy, until we meet again in the clouds
With much love
Your Daughter
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