An invisible thread
“Subconsciously, it probably affects you more than you can be rationally aware.”
I could never let go of these words since they were said to me. A simple question of “Are you alright?”, most of the time sputtered as no more than a formality when two person meet, sufficed to summon a momentary heartache. “No. I am not alright. Why would I be? Should I be? I have lost one of the most important person in my life and you are asking me if I am alright. How can I be alright? Will it ever become alright?”
“I am fine, thank you.”
Nearly three months have passed since that day. Time will heal they tell you. Did they also remember to tell you that there will be scarring in the healing process. A network of thick fibrous tissue engulfing your heart, to stop the tears of blood that threaten to drain the life out of your body. The forced suppression of emotions is slowly surfacing to suffocate me. Subconsciously, it is killing me silently while I continue to breathe, eat and live. The gradual awareness of the wretched emotional state I am in scares me and I am struggling to pick up the falling pieces. I fear the day when everything collapses and I have no more means of putting it all together again.
No one loved me more than he ever did. I was his little girl and will always be. I remember looking down at his face when he held me with his arms upright, throwing me up and always catching me tightly and securely. He was infallible and I felt so safe with him by my side. He used to kiss me on my forehead in the mornings before he goes off to work. “Bye daddy” I muttered half-asleep, knowing I will see him in the evenings when he comes home from work. The last time I said this to him, I knew he was never going to walk through that door again. I held his hand till the end and told him how much I loved him, hoping with all my heart he heard me, but I will never know if he did.
I will always remember my last meal alone with him two weeks before that day. I was home for the new year. I sat waiting for the bus at the bus stop near our home and caught him standing at the traffic lights. I hesitated before I ran after him and asked him if he wanted to have lunch together. In retrospect that would be one of the best things I have done in my life. It was a simple but poignant meal. The last conversation we had was when he sent me off at the airport. I told him to take care and I will be back to see him really soon.
My mind is constantly replaying memories from the past and flashbacks from three months ago. I am cautious to only take glimpses, for the fear of being overwhelmed. I never want to forget any of it no matter how painful it is to hold the memories close to my heart all the time. Will I ever be alright? Even if I say it does not matter if I am never going to be alright, people will tell me to not be silly because time will heal. They know it will. I tell them grief is a personal thing because each of us hold a unique thread to our loved ones, shared by none others. The pain is a constant reminder of my loss and the link to feeling him close to my heart, which I have chosen to carry with me for the rest of my life. This scar is my way of healing.
You told me that it was more important to live as a good person, than to have all the certificates in life. You told me you trusted me to do the right things for myself, because you are not always going to be by my side to tell me what to do. You can only believe that you have taught me all that you could for me to face life on my own. You never reprimanded me for my failures like other parents would because you believed that it was my life and the choice to do well or not lies with me. All that matters is that I will be the one to shoulder the consequences and no one else. When I chose to leave, you never questioned my intentions but supported me wholeheartedly. You asked me that once, “Why?” I said it was something I had to do. Selfless as you are to let me pursue my wilful impulse, you let me go although I know it hurts you to do so. Without you, I would not have walked this far.I remember the words you said to me as clearly as the day you said it. I will carry on walking knowing that you have left me enough to carry on for the rest of my life.
Love you always, Dy.