Tuesday, October 22, 2013

A month has passed.

It has been a month since my father passed away.

A month of feeling sad.

A month of tears.

A month of grief.

A month of mourning.

A month of coping.

A month of oversleeping.

A month of over tiredness.

A month of stress-caused gastric.

A month of loss.

A month of longing.

A month of memories.

A month of missing.

A month of emptiness.

It has been a month of sitting in the "roller coaster of feelings" too. Sometimes I feel OK, like I can take over the world but sometimes, I feel like breaking down, crying loudly in the car while driving to work or home. I feel safer crying in the car. Nobody's there to hear me. Just me and my thoughts. I feel so, so, sensitive right now. Looking through Facebook posts (especially about my father), pictures and videos can make me cry in a split second. And when I cry, it's really hard to stop. So, what do I do if that happens? I just let the tears flow out, hoping it will stop. And eventually, it does stop.

It has also been a month of pretending to laugh and smile. I laugh and smile on the outside but all I want to do is just wallow, be sad, be lazy and be depressed. But I know if I don't try to feel better, I'm going to be a mess so I try to be normal, in every way I can. And plus, I don't think people would want to be around with a sad, depressed person.. I don't want to make people feel uncomfortable, though.

Thankfully, I can function. That's important. Although not as fast as before, I can do work - translations, writing and stuffs. But sometimes, I get a bit spaced out.. And whenever I think about my father, I get these gastric pains. The doctor said gastric can be caused by extreme stress and a sudden change of events (I told him about my condition). No wonder.

Haih.

I'll be OK. I know I will.

I miss you, Ayah. Love you. Sleep well.


Thursday, October 3, 2013

A letter to my father

Dear Ayah,

It has been almost two weeks since you passed away and I am beginning to miss you even more. The first week seemed like a hazy dream.. Even though my body was there, talking to people, my mind was blank. I talked and talked, even forced a laugh and smile but I didn't feel anything. I felt (and still feel) really numb. And now, after a week plus, I am starting to feel like everything is real. The haze is starting to disappear and I'm really scared.. I don't think I am prepared to face reality. I'd rather be in the haze, to be honest. At least I won't feel too depressed...

I started work on Monday after being on leave for a week and even though I look okay, I still can't seem to concentrate. What seemed to be an easy translation work feels really hard and confusing now. But don't worry Ayah, I've discussed this with my Chief Editor and she was very understanding.. She even praised me on how honest I was.

I miss you so, so much, Ayah. It's hard to not let my mind wander on all those memories we had together. Me kissing you good night, the talks we had, the jokes we shared, your hugs, your "Hmmmm!" reply when I said I love you, everything, everything seem to be repeating like a broken CD. The thought of you not being there, sitting on your rocking chair in front of the house, waiting for me to come home hurts me deeply. But somehow, I still see you walking around the house, sitting in the computer room, smiling and laughing.

Oh god, this is so painful. I know I'm being dumb by writing about this, but I feel like writing helps. I guess it's true when they say writing is a form of therapy.

I wish you could see how beautiful your funeral was, Ayah. Behind the tears and sadness, there were so much love. Relatives and friends came and gave hugs like it was a normal thing, little Maira and little Arman's cuteness, running here and there whilst holding hands, their cute "Lailahaillallah" chants would definitely make you laugh. You would even be shocked at how affected Audrene was. She cried and cried and expressed her regrets on not being able to do all kinds of activities with you. She even said that she still has a lot of stories to tell you, Ayah...

Mum even expressed how proud she was (and how proud you would be) of us (me, kakak, Eja and Arief) siblings during the funeral. I wish you could see and feel the love on that day, Ayah. You would have been so, so proud of us.

Even though 25 years seem to be so short, your love and values will forever stay with me. Not once have I ever felt deprived of your love.. So, thank you, Ayah. Thank you so much for showering me with unconditional love and for instilling precious values that makes me what I am today (I still need to work on my inner strength though, I am not as strong as you or mum).

I hope you knew that you were loved.. And that your presence will certainly be missed.

You were the best father anybody could ever asked for. I am so proud to have been your daughter and I thank god for that. Alhamdulillah.

I love you, Ayah. So much.

Good night, my hero. Sleep tight.

Your little princess,
AleO.

P/S: "Ayah" is a Malay word and it means "dad/father". 

5th November 1946 - 21st September 2013