There was a dimmed part of his soul. He was there but not fully heartedly.
That dimmed part is what this is all about. It is the part that he is keeping out of my reach that keeps me attached to him.
That dimmed part is the black hole that keeps pulling me closer and closer.
I am doing everything my father wanted me to do. I spent most of my life resisting him. I refused to conform to whatever "right" he wanted me to do. Now, after he's gone I found out that resisting him and not conforming were nothing but a privilege.
I had the option of resisting because he was there willing to hold a moving train for me till I make up my mind wether to jump aboard or stay behind.
He is gone and I have no choice but to jump aboard that train. As staying behind is a privilege that I can't afford right now.
Some of my best writings are wasted on emails. I know they are among my best writings because they are always honest, they are always uncensored and most importantly they are always loaded with emotions.
Why I think they are wasted on emails? Well, I don't really believe they are wasted. Just sometimes certain ideas are really good I wish I was able to use them in a bigger project.
An example of these ideas is how i described the feeling of emptiness. People usually think that emptiness is a shallow feeling, or maybe emptiness makes one shallow. But I think emptiness is so profound. It is even profounder than pain. That said, I think happiness is shallow. Think about it, regardless how happily you feel happiness never touches as deep as sadness does. It is like pain can get to the roots of your soul. Pain can reach where it is all dark and scary. Pain is pain because it can touch where happiness can't.
Emptiness is profounder because if pain can touch the roots of your soul, emptiness is the said roots. Emptiness is where there is absolutely nothing. No joy, no pain and no life. When you are empty you can't feel a thing. When you are empty you seem alive, as you breathe, talk, walk and do what "alive" people do you will be constantly mistaken to be alive but when you are empty you are not alive because what's life without feeling.
I will be ok.
I know one day I will wake up and I will be able to engage in trivial drama. I know one day I will wake up angry at a man I love. I know one day I will wake up with new attachments, with new hopes and fears.
I know one day I will wake up and say life is futile while wanting it to have a meaning, but till this one day come life is meaningless, and I am feelingless.
Seven years ago, on the eve of my birthday and while I was
preparing myself to cross into the thirties my grandpa died. I remember that
day so good because I had a good day till the point I got the call telling me
that he’s gone.
I had plans to celebrate turning thirty, and for an unknown
reason or probably just regular excitement I celebrated early.
I spent my birthday crying my late grandpa and replaying the
last months that lead to his death. He was ill, he was in and out of hospitals
to many times. He was once in the ICU and everyone thought he won’t make it but
he did. Then his doctor suggested he should have an operation. According to his
doctors his chances of life and death were equal whether he had the operation
or not but had the operation succeeded he will be able to live for many years
I saw my grandpa a day before the operation. Something inside
me kept telling me that we are saying our last goodbyes. In that day my grandpa
was in a relatively good shape, sometimes I wish I voiced the idea that crossed
my mind when I saw him and the he shouldn’t be having this operation anyway as
long as he seems to be improving.
He died in the eve of my thirtieth birthday. Yet he wasn’t
the 1st grandparent to do it. His wife (my maternal grandma died two
days ahead of my 16th birthday). And three years after his death my
paternal grandma dies three days ahead of my birthday.
I remember how sad my father was when my grandpa died. I remember
that he just went to the hospital though he knew he won’t do anything. He just
wanted to be there. Yet I remember that
he brought me a gift and gave it to me. I remember him saying that my grandpa
died yet it is my birthday. I remember him giving me the gift and saying: “happy
I didn’t know back then that seven years later I will spend
my birthday thinking of this exact situation trying to figure out what lesson
did my dad intend by giving me this gift in that time.
Did he want me to know that regardless how deeply he is grieving
the loss of my grandpa yet he loved me more, or did he want me to know that
life should always trump death?
I keep thinking of this very incident as I am passing the 37th
line while grieving my own father’s death. My father didn’t die on my birthday;
he died a little over a month earlier and a little over a month after his 73rd
I keep thinking what would my dad do, and what would he want
me to do?
I can’t claim that I am starting my 38th year
feeling lost, because whatever feeling I am going through since my daddy’s
death is more profound than words.
My 37th year was rough, even before daddy passed
away. My years start with my birthday and the 37th year started we a
huge fight with someone whom I used to consider a close friend. A fight that
led to more fights over the course of the year and eventually to the end of the
said friendship. Later on my writing dream came to an “expected” hold for
reasons I foresaw yet had nothing to do to stop or change. I also got into a
sort of relation with Mr. “Don’t count us as a relationship”. “Him” was an eye
opener. How I opened up to experiment getting lost into something that I knew
better than even attempting to seriously consider. And how doing so opened up
space for novel ideas and feelings.
A definitive moment was him asking me about a certain
someone, and how his seemly innocent question made me realize that I was never
really over that certain someone and my feelings for him had been the same. My feelings
for that certain someone remained as fresh and as intense regardless how many
years passed since “we” were over and regardless everything I did to get over
him. I even still tremble every time I remember how I felt facing that
And though it seems that I have enjoyed the discoveries that
“no relation” with Mr. “don’t count me as relationship” yet it was rough. I
still got many questions unanswered. And he/ it left scratches that will need
time to heal and might lead to complications.
But what made my 37th year really rough was the
idea that I am going to lose my dad. He had several health issues that kept me
on my nerves. Ironically nothing I worried about killed him, what killed him
was something no one would see and even worse something that no one could stop.
He died anyway, and now I am starting my 38th
year without him.
I have no safety nets. I am officially a grownup.
The birthday test never fails. Only those who love you will
remember. And only those who love you will make the call regardless how inconvenient
the circumstances seems to be.
Only those who love you will show their love because they
know that love conquers all.