I have thought of writing a poem about you, an ode if you will. I have always loved writing poems, I think you know that. This time though, it wasn’t easy. In fact, I just couldn’t do it. It’s just too hard.
It has been exactly one year since you left us. And I still feel like it was yesterday. I remember what I wore to the hospital, I remember the rain, I remember everything.
I remember how your last words to me were “I love you darling”. I remember how much you suffered pa. I remember crying by your bedside and hoping to God that I could switch places with you, and bear your pain. I remember telling you that it’s ok to let go.
I remember much more than that pa.
I remember you making me my fancy dress costume. Who can forget that petrol pump you built that won us the first prize. My friends still remember it now. I was only 5. I remember you had to hire a pick-up truck to transport that humongous thing to school.
I also remember you teaching me my first song, Do-A-Deer. I remember holding that sheet of paper and singing it while running up and down the house.
How can I not remember that day when mama got so mad at me for not being able to draw that mangosteen. I remember I was about to be smacked, and there you were, you stepped into the room and I looked at you, literally my saviour. I didn’t get any smacks that day.
I remember pa, how you taught me to draw those frogs for the school exhibition. Do you remember, I chose that poem Twenty Froggies, and you taught me how to draw it. How proud I was when that poster was chosen to be displayed at school for a visit by some Japanese guests.
I remember so many things pa. But I cannot write more. Its the tears. Darn them tears.
How are you keeping pa? Is the air-cond always on up there? Or I reckon they dont need it there? I wonder if you get to eat your favourite mutton curry with acar. And lots of “karevade” at the side. Or maybe you have a steamboat pot 🙂 to share with grandma and grandpa.
Do you get lots of plants up there. Maybe you have a nursery again. Or better still, the tomato plants. Who can forget the tomato plants. Darn these tears.
I miss you so much pa. I dream of you just about every single day. They say time heals. I don’t know if it works for me.
You added so much colour into our lives. It’s a little drab now, here.
We miss you pa. I hope you have some nice friends up there, ones that can appreciate your jokes. We miss those too. I miss them. But most of all, it’s you that I miss. You.
Your daughter, always.