Remembrance

My father passed away on September 1st, 1994. Heart attack in his sleep. Nobody expected that could happen to a 39 years old guy who just met his lovely one and only baby daughter which was born 40 days before.

I didn’t attend his funeral, because they didn’t take me there to see him even for the last time. There’s an album photo of his funeral and I always remember that one photo when my mom kissed my father’s forehead as he stayed still in the coffin. And of course, when I looked at the pictures, I kept searching for my existence, where was I at the time.

These years I’ve been asking myself, should I just spend my whole lifetime grieving about something that I don’t know or understand? I can’t give a clear answer. But then I ask again, is that the worst thing that could happen to me, so that nothing will ever compare to this kind of pain? I think the answer is no, it’s not the worst, although people say it is and I don’t know why.

Because even if I never got to meet my superhero and my first love like they say, I still keep thinking that these invisible memories we shared are the perfect shade to shelter myself.

Why is that? Here’s the thing.

My dad never put any pressure on me. He didn’t tell me how to live and instead of seeing it as confusion, from my point of view, I see it as freedom, that I can always choose.

Whenever I listen to the stories of my friends or even my students who got cheater and abusive dads, I don’t even have to choose between having that kind of dad or not. Maybe it sounds unfair or even worse, unwise, but I feel like it is just that the more I understand why he had to go that early, the more I could face anything in life. This then brought some people who marked me as a perfectionist as well as an introvert (in a negative way), contrary to what I thought of myself.

Why was that? The reason I was really really bad at social situations…

Maybe because I used to let grief dictate myself, so I found it awkward talking to anyone about things. Later, I conclude that maybe instead of letting it controls my life, let’s just make it comfortable enough to not go berserk. But yeah, grief sneaks up unexpectedly usually. On a trip, when you look at the calendar, even from the small talk you just heard, or the quote you just read.

Of course, even though I have comfort in being positive, but some days I’m just not into that. I also have some time when I have this kind of wishful thinking.

That if I have my dad, I would tell him everything because sure he would protect me from any harm and he would provide the best hiding place for me so I could always feel safe and sound.

Oh, sure he would pay for everything I want without me hesitating to ask, without me considering to pay it myself.

And he would teach me everything. How to drive a car, how to build a business from scratch, how to get rid of jerks.

And then, he would be there for every heartbreak.

But wishful thinking never shows you reality. And that’s okay actually. I accept that since a long time ago aside from what other people keep bringing me down about this matter. It’s becoming often too easy for me to let go of things. And I don’t know why but I don’t want to consider it as something bad at all.

Of course, I don’t abuse myself. I learn how to choose better everyday. I try my best to treat myself with kindness and then I want to pass it on to many others. The closure of knowing my dad loved me, is what motivates me to want good things in life.

I know I can’t even proudly and confidently say that I lost someone I love so much.

But sure, he cared for me lovingly for a short time before he passed. It must be the best 40 days of my life, right? That’s why I want to live my whole life remembering that love is always there, even when I can’t see it.