mindfield

"I tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone..."

After a period of numbing, silent denial, the fact that Dad's gone hit me quietly. To tell the truth, it's still unbelievable up till now. How can he go the way he did? He's barely 50. There were so many things I wish to give him, so many things I wish to do for him... things I didn't even dare tell anyone for fear of failing to deliver...
I came to think about that recently... Is it better to promise things just so our good intentions were known? I used to hate promises, hearing them or making them. Just like the old saying goes, Don't make promises you know you can't fulfill.

But now, I regret that I never speak to Dad what I was going to do, what I was thinking... at least if he'd known I've (finally) had it all mapped out, he wouldn't have left worrying.

As most of you've known, my father died last Saturday. I was abruptly woken by a phone call from my aunty Helen (his twin sister) and told the news.

It took me a great while for the news to sink in... Or probably I need someone closer to really open me up and allow me to get in touch with reality.
I was okay when a horde of relatives called me soon afterward but I broke down when my eldest uncle called. I grew up with him and he was the one so closely resembling my father - in his quiet way, no-nonsense attitude...

Anyway, thanks to all who'd texted me and offered their condolescenses. The guys from campus, Mila, Nia, Rei, Eve... My housemates, current and ex, your support meant a lot to me. You guys lifted some weights from my shoulder.
Various persons from my school days... Guys I thought have forgotten about me, thanks for all your prayers and sympathy.

To all of you I failed to notify, please accept my apologies. I was in a hurry to fly back home in such a short notice, my brain seemed to have scattered.