Letter To Father
Dear Dad
It's hard to believe 7 years have passed since you left. It's feels like an eternity. It feels like yesterday.
For a long time i was angry and bitter and self-destructive. If you had ruined my life as i knew it, as i had planned it, I refused to rebuild.
Well intentioned people told me to pull my socks off. Time would heal the wound. You can't grieve forever. Get over it.
Well intentioned people, who've never experienced loss, for most part talk rubbish.
Off course you can grieve forever. Off course the pain doesn't feel so raw. But it doesn't disappear. Nothing fills the void. No one fills the void.
I waited for a phone call or a card for my birthdays although i knew it couldn't be.
I resented (and still do sometimes) "complete", "whole" families no matter how dysfunctional.
You broke my heart.
I went home last year for the first without you. I've just come back.
I had my first hands on experience of the whole NGOs and development business in Africa. You were right: it is messy, it is incoherent and sometime (often) harm full, it is frustrating. And just like you, I can't stand by and do nothing.
I'm working with an African Women's charity now. We've got everything to make our life difficult: Women, Black, speaking out on gender-based violence and talking about accessing positions of leadership!
I'm better now you know. I worry for the little sisters but that what big sisters do I guess.
I think we're doing more than OK. I think they are doing great. But that's normal they are my sisters. It has been hard but we've managed.We are stronger than we thought we were. And we have each other.
I wish you were here though. I wish you could see the person I have become and be proud of me.
I went home. Where i was born, where you are buried.
I went on your grave.I didn't remember the road was so steep. I didn't remember the cemetery was so small. I didn't remember the trees were so tall.
It took me nearly seven year to realise you would never be coming back.
I'm not angry anymore Dad. Not so bitter. I am trying to grow. The void is still there.
It's hard to believe 7 years have passed since you left. It's feels like an eternity. It feels like yesterday.
For a long time i was angry and bitter and self-destructive. If you had ruined my life as i knew it, as i had planned it, I refused to rebuild.
Well intentioned people told me to pull my socks off. Time would heal the wound. You can't grieve forever. Get over it.
Well intentioned people, who've never experienced loss, for most part talk rubbish.
Off course you can grieve forever. Off course the pain doesn't feel so raw. But it doesn't disappear. Nothing fills the void. No one fills the void.
I waited for a phone call or a card for my birthdays although i knew it couldn't be.
I resented (and still do sometimes) "complete", "whole" families no matter how dysfunctional.
You broke my heart.
I went home last year for the first without you. I've just come back.
I had my first hands on experience of the whole NGOs and development business in Africa. You were right: it is messy, it is incoherent and sometime (often) harm full, it is frustrating. And just like you, I can't stand by and do nothing.
I'm working with an African Women's charity now. We've got everything to make our life difficult: Women, Black, speaking out on gender-based violence and talking about accessing positions of leadership!
I'm better now you know. I worry for the little sisters but that what big sisters do I guess.
I think we're doing more than OK. I think they are doing great. But that's normal they are my sisters. It has been hard but we've managed.We are stronger than we thought we were. And we have each other.
I wish you were here though. I wish you could see the person I have become and be proud of me.
I went home. Where i was born, where you are buried.
I went on your grave.I didn't remember the road was so steep. I didn't remember the cemetery was so small. I didn't remember the trees were so tall.
It took me nearly seven year to realise you would never be coming back.
I'm not angry anymore Dad. Not so bitter. I am trying to grow. The void is still there.
posted by Kékéli at 16:15
1 Comments:
I still miss him 2 and wish he was here to see how we've grown...It's funny how we've always avoided the subject. Anyways dear couz let's keep on keeping on.
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