In a man's world
Updated: Aug 7, 2019
My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person. He believed in me. - Jim Valvano
I've gotten so used to writing to you.
I keep telling myself that it would be easier if Dad were here.
To laugh with, to complain to, to discuss the unbearable traffic and the chaos in the streets. To deal with a million questions on grief itself.
I can hear his voice of reason and his stubbornness is as fresh as the mud after the downpour at the Oval. Heck the ground here in 'Goron ka gaon' as he playfully referred to it, seems shaky and I can only remember Dad with his sturdy walking stick leading the way.
"Move on Abi. You can do it." I don't expect anyone to understand, not even my soul mate.
Tears are not a sign of weakness. At least not in my book. For now I am comforted that my inner circle believes that mourning doesn't end in one week or one year. Friends, the inner circle has reached out to offer encouragement.
As I carried my Dad's coffin silently with my brothers and husband two weeks ago, it was hard to push back the tears. It took a strong army no doubt and yes it was a heavy load to bear. None of us can easily hide our sorrow.
Thank you cousins and nephews for allowing me to partake in that gesture in heels and in the pouring rain. If only momentarily, I made a prayer to always be the 'Abi' that Dad has been proud of. How horrible that my Godfather too passed on just after you. I guess you both were waiting to discuss the politics of the day up there.
Hugs and kisses Dad. I can still smell your after shave and won't ever forget how you hated to say goodbye.
Your daughter, Abi