THE WIND WILL TAKE ME AWAY UP HIGH,
INTO THE CLOUDS TO A PLACE I KNOW NOT BUT WILL LEARN TO LOVE LOTS.
Over the years of being apart from you, I thought I've been made "immune" to family ties and all that emotional baggages that comes with it. Still, I tear as easily as a hormonal teen watching Hallmark commercials at the thought of losing you. You were my favourite, and I was yours. You made it clear. I was the one you would proudly "show off" to your friends like a trophy (I grimaced every time you do that "This is my daughter..." pitch, but I was secretly pleased); the one who could do no wrong in your eyes, the only one capable of making you laugh no matter how upset you were; the one who's most alike you; "chip off the old block", people who knew us would say. And I was the one who "keeps you going" you often told me.
So why did you leave me now?
It's been about 9 hours since I got news of your passing on and I haven't come to terms with it. I've had enough time alone to digest the truth but part of me refuse to believe that you're gone. It feels surreal. My head hurts so bad from all the throbbing, I want to go to sleep and wake up to you goofing on the phone telling me you're in Paris or Japan and I'd play along, despite knowing that you're most likely lounging in the kitchen chair. I feel so sad, I feel so lost, I feel so angry and I feel so empty. I feel like a part of me has been rudely yanked out. I thought a lot about your death but I convinced myself it wouldn't happen soon, not before I graduate and earn a decent paycheck; not before we spend some "Father Daughter" time together. For the last few hours I've been hating myself, and I don't think I'll be able to forgive myself ever.
My heart broke and I'm overwhelmed with guilt when Vincent told me you kept asking to see me even during your last moments. I am so sorry papa, please don't think that I didn't love you enough to go back. I avoided going back because I was a coward. Because you and I always put up a strong front in front of each other; we were each other's pillar of strength and because you always said a daughter of yours never cries, I made sure I don't ever cry; not in front of you. But as your health deteriorates, holding back my tears became harder. It hurts me to see you in pain but I could do nothing to ease your pain and so I avoided going back. I thought crying in front of you would break your heart, but not having been there hurt you more I suppose.
Now I wish for just one minute, enough for you to lift your eyebrow in acknowledgement like you always do, when I tell you I love you. I wish I was there holding you and assuring you that you were the best father when you breathed your last. I know you feel like you let us down but we know you tried your best, I know. In many aspect, you tried to give me the best that you can give. Me, I was the lucky first born; you gave me your time and your love. Looking back, you loved being my father and that alone makes me so proud to be your daughter.
Now I'm missing the only figure of authority I respect in my life but I tell myself that even though you're gone physically, you live in me. I am like you in so many, many, many ways. I have your nose, your fingers and jellybean toes I used to wriggle beside yours. Physical attributes aside, I tell stories like you used to, sometimes exaggerating to crazy extends just to amuse our "audience", we have the same sense of "justice" that more often than not land us in hot soup with the higher authorities. We share the same sense of humour, the same goofiness, the same temperament and the same "when people make us mad, we don't get mad, we get even" attitude. Even miles apart, I am who I am because of YOU. I hope you approved of the choices I've made in my life and I will continue to live up to the high standards you set for me. Papa, I miss you sooo much. I hope you're finally liberated from the pain you endured for the past 2 years. Wherever you are, remember I love you as much as you love me, if not more.
