I guess what tends to amaze me the most is – people. They are unpredictable, insensitive, and for most part, just unbearable.
*Of course, not all of them!*
I write about dad, about what I feel without him, because I don’t want to lose him, not yet. You must think I’m stupid, plain daft. That I am losing my shit. It’s almost 4 years now that dad left us, but what if it still feels like yesterday? So here I am ready to yell off rooftops – this is a memoir, listed as a memoir, and if it makes you uncomfortable, don’t read. Don’t ever read. Just leave. Don’t ever come back. But don’t tell me it is inappropriate of me to hold on like this. Don’t suggest that it is depressing to be writing pieces that lay bare my bleeding heart. Don’t please!
To set the context here – a contact messaged me after reading a poem I wrote for dad on the blog; and I call it a contact because people like that don’t deserve to be called friends, and went on to ask how I’m coping after 3 years of dad’s departure. Good question! How do I feel? How am I supposed to feel? Was it a book I lost that I should forget about? So I said what people expect you to say – I’m okay. The most-deceiving response of all time. He then said how I shouldn’t be posting pieces like that because it is sad. It’s not going to change anything.
I agree it’s sad. I agree it’s not going to change anything. But it makes me feel better, I said. And there’s a part of me that feels that it helps others who are grieving too. The bigger question though was – does everything have to be all smiles and joy? Social media has started to set real bad expectations, I suppose. Welcome to the real world where life is not so much joy, not always. And who are we to question someone’s ways to dealing with grief? Just because a certain amount of time has lapsed, are you expected to bounce back to life, just like that?
I was taken aback. If the said person is reading this piece, I want them to know this isn’t my attempt at venting out and forgetting but holding on to him and not forgetting. It is okay if it is sad. It is okay too if it is depressing. But how is it bad if it is healing?
I am going to keep writing these personal memoirs. This is my space where I am comfortable sharing my deepest thoughts and feelings around losing my father. And it’s going to go on for a long time. Because the ache, the memories, will never go away but I have someplace to put it all in and visit them just whenever.
So if you’re reading this, don’t let them dissuade you. Do whatever you like. Write whatever you like. Wherever you like. And if people don’t like it, you can ask them to pack bags and leave.
On a totally different note, did I tell you dad was a huge Bruce Lee fan? Dad wasn’t even born then but he would always speak of the actor like he knew him personally. That’s how much he worshipped him. These past few months, I have been rewatching his movies and reliving those memories knowing he was happy then.