Thirteen years ago, my dad died. It was unexpected, and it completely crushed my universe. Until that point, I had lived in a bubble, thinking death was something to threaten you only in reaching old age. The illusion shattered, as I looked at the one who had promised to be there for me forever. Too young gone, people used to say to me, perhaps fearing their own mortality. I felt cheated, and I bargained with God to take it back.
Grief hit me with a strong force, and I could not see a way out of the pain. No amount of tears could change things, yet I cried and cried. I abandoned all hope, and surrounded myself to the sadness. I relieved the last conversation we had, time and time again, trying to hold on to his words. Even now, after all this time, it seems like he isn't really gone. I keep imagining I will go home and he will stand up from the couch to greet me - my brain simply refuses to accept he is no longer alive.
After years on working through the grief, I realized this feeling comes from my undying love for him. He will never really be gone, because I carry him in my heart. I keep him alive through the memories we've gathered together, and the love he had for me. Healing took time and it all started with a blank sheet of paper. I was suffering so much that I needed an outlet. The pen touched the white, scratchy surface and I knew. Writing would be my release. It would help me heal and come to terms with the loss.
I started writing about all the people I've lost, and, in the process, I've realized we tend to remember the good times rather than the final moment. All this writing got me thinking about how we should cherish every day, and live to the fullest. We should always tell others how we feel, before it is too late and we only have their memory to hang to. It was an emotional period, but it did me a lot of good. I was proud of myself.
My thoughts would have remained hidden in a drawer, had it not been for my supportive husband. He was the one who encouraged me to take my stories, and turn them into a grief memoir. I published "Stories for the Heart: When Memories Become a Treasure" in 2019, and I know my dad would also have been proud of me. I applaud all of those who have chosen to work through their grief and come out healed, understanding what a privilege it is to be alive!
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