I don’t think it has been all that long since I’ve updated this blog and I deliberated over writing this post. I think it’s probably a bit easier for me this way, yet it will be a difficult post to write. I kept rewording and rewording what I wanted to say in my mind, and every time it just broke my heart and brought tears to my eyes.
If you want the short version of what I am about to say then – I won’t be attending any parties this year (this is a personal decision, and I am obligated to do so as it’s something prohibited whilst mourning), and I will be harder to contact because I want some time to myself this year. If you need to contact me though, it’s the same. I might just take a bit longer to respond. You don’t need to read any further. If you like, you may continue reading.
A lot of people who know me in person probably get a very cool or cold vibe from me. I know I can come across as stern, unfriendly, and even unapproachable. I seem moody (though most of the time I am normal – just slightly introverted) and you could even describe me as depressed when I sometimes just sit there and not say a word. A lot of the time I reason my strange behaviour with the messy break up I had back in 2009 or whenever it was. There was another reason why it hit me so hard, and it was one I never really spoke about.
I tried to hide it and keep it to myself because I didn’t want people to feel disturbed or concerned about it. I didn’t want people questioning me over it either because if the topic was brought up, it’d make me feel uncomfortable and I wouldn’t know how to respond. I only told a few people who I felt I trusted the most, and a few people who picked up along the way because I had to suddenly do strange things like leave in the middle of my work shift or quit a university elective altogether.
For those who did pick up on it, my father was in a state of constant illness. He was a healthy, strong and intelligent man who was feared by many, but respected by most. Long story short, he was awesome because he was so intelligent and accomplished a lot within a short period of time.
When he got sick, the doctors told him that he would be fine and could continue work after treatment. We all thought that was the case – but he never recovered. Things just went downhill from that point on. Although unwell, he was still able to do things for us, which included home renovations even though he was in no physical state to do so. There were times when I just wish he rested, did nothing, and had more energy that way.
The main turning point in this whole story was back in 2009 which was probably one of the worst and darkest years I had. This was the time when my father was hospitalised and required surgery – the operation was a success, until they tried to wake up him – to which at that point he didn’t. He was resuscitated, but just a few nights later, he almost stopped breathing. It took him weeks to get back on his feet because he was bedridden for so long. We thought we were about to lose him, but thankfully we didn’t. It was this moment that I resented how I had to face all this after having to experience a break up because I thought that I would have had someone by my side to help me get through the hard time. In that respect I was, and still am very bitter about it.
From then on the story was about the same – in and out of hospital. I resented myself for thinking that it was a nuisance at first – eventually I grew used to it and it no longer surprised me if I had to find myself in the emergency room in the early hours of the morning, or perhaps even overnight. I had to take time off work, but everything was alright – we were prepared for it, and we knew that it was going to be increasingly difficult for us, but we could get by.
Perhaps he knew that his time was coming to an end – he started to do strange things in the recent months. He kept on telling us to do things that weren’t important (in our opinion) but in hindsight, he wanted us to do these things so that he could be able to leave us knowing we had resolved all the little problems we had around our home.
I guess the thing that hurts most is that all of this feels so unreal to me – it was just only a moment ago when he was still breathing and trying to tell us things. What I’m glad about is that I managed to see him during his last minutes while he was still with us, although he wouldn’t wake up even though we called desperately for him to respond to us. He seemed to be asleep. Probably he was worried that he would scare us, so he left when we turned our backs away, and the next thing we knew when we saw him again, he was already gone.
I wasn’t able to tell him stories that I wanted to tell him about, stories that he probably wanted to hear about. It was too late already. He saved his last breath to hear me call him dad when I got home from work before he decided to leave us for good.
My dad was in all honesty a good man. He didn’t deserve to be so sick for so long, and at such a young age. But dwelling on these thoughts won’t do much, as all I hope now is that he can be at rest peacefully. Although we miss him a lot and still have a lot of trouble adapting without him since we are just only a family of three – now two – I sincerely hope that he is now in a better place where there is no sickness, pain, anxiety, stress or worries.
The first week or so was especially tough on us – that is, on mum and me. I took 2 weeks off work (well it was one week but stretched over) and every single day was long, tedious and emotionally draining. Suddenly our home was so empty and quiet. Our meals were eaten in tears. Now it’s a lot better, but once I start to cue on memories of my dad and his last moments, I feel bad all over again.
Dad, I hope that you are happy wherever you are now. We didn’t really talk much because we were conflicted at times, but it doesn’t mean much – I simply resembled you too much because I inherited your personality. I probably regret not telling you how much I love you, but I really do, because you’re my dad and I was proud of that fact – but hopefully you understand because my actions may suggest otherwise. You taught me a lot, and you were my idol. You were brave, and you did a lot for us. May you rest in peace – we will think of you every day and miss you dearly.