Don't ever think I think I'll get over him

The past 12 months have been a lot of things to a lot of people. Some have seen pinnacles of success, for another few its been a string of failures, others have just rolled on with the events in their life. For me, its draws to a slow grinding halt. Undoubtedly, it’s been the worst year of the entirety of my life. March 2012, took away Dad, the single most important person in my life.

Dad has, in a lot of ways, covered the best facets of life for me; the ability to be so fearless yet so vulnerable, so emotionally charged and yet have a cool head, larger than life but oh-so-human. If one word could describe dad, it would be uber-cool. He never had to answer anyone, he didn’t allow himself to get burdened by tradition or society and lived life on his own terms. He called a spade a spade and he was absolutely comfortable in his own skin. These are traits, I hope, I can aspire to embody one day. Dad defined optimism in my life & when dad died, that fire did too.

Every day I walked around different person, an inner battle raged that just could not decide which me was actually me. The moody prick who remained unaware of the world around her or the rebel who just did not care at all – every day called for the real me to please stand up but I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. In the last 12 months, I have lost the desire for a lot of things, the passion to live and the energy to realize what can be realized. I look at myself in the mirror and I see all the seasons of Lost rolled into one. Each day started with a new dawn but those intermittent spurts of belief died in their infancy. I have now become an amalgamation of everything that I wasn’t. This rabbit hole is now very deep, deeper than the one Alice found herself in.

I’m yet to figure out how to live without the squeeze of the hand & pat on my head when I leave home, wishing me well, blessing me. I’m yet to let the knowledge sink in that I can’t look into your eyes for assurance when I’m unsure of the path I tread.

Dad, this is a one to one with you.

God decided to take you away, but you fought your way until you could. I know (though I am yet to accept it) you won’t be around physically anymore but I do feel a strength within me every day now and every inch of my being tells me that it’s you. It’s warm & full of love. It has to be YOU.

There’s never been a day when I wouldn’t have said “Good morning dad” when I wake up in the mornings.

And this is why you’ll never be far away, you’ll never be gone. You can never be a picture on the wall or a passing thought. YOU are love. And as we smile, you will breathe. As we love, you will live. I want you to know that you are no longer just a dad or just a friend. Your responsibilities are now grander. Now, you are my strength, my prayer, my belief, my faith, and above all, my God. Because for all the years of my life, you’ve removed every obstacle, been all the answers and satisfied my every desire and now you are eternal. So for now and ever more, I will pray to you to look over us like you always have. And like always, I know you will.

I won’t say I’ll miss you because in my heart, in my life, you’ll never be gone. Rest well, Dad. I’ll make you proud. I promise!