I lost my father last month—out of the blue, all of a sudden. I couldn’t do anything, couldn’t meet him one last time. I can’t forgive myself for not being there.
The world is celebrating Father’s Day today, and I don’t know how I feel. I am numb. I had the best dad in the whole world, and I lost him. They say it’s the circle of life and all that—but why my dad? I wasn’t even a good daughter. I gave him so much pain and wasn’t even there in his last moments. I got the news when I was midway home, on the flight, and I just couldn’t do anything. I cried and screamed and sat there, stuck in the aircraft. Helpless.
My dad had a rough childhood, but he made sure we had the best life—and he gave us better than the best. Our childhood was amazing because of our parents, and every occasion was a great celebration because he was there. I don’t know how to live with this loss.
I feel lost and numb. I try to stay outside the house because it kills me to be indoors and face myself. I’m not comfortable with silence, and it’s driving me crazy. This is a very different phase of my life, and I don’t know how to deal with it—but I know he’s around me, and he’ll help me through it, like he always did.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I know heaven has its brightest star. I miss you, and I hope to meet you in another universe, another lifetime. May God bless your soul.
