I keep searching for you, da. These past few years it feels like I've been retracing your footsteps, stubbornly chasing rapidly fading footfalls. Praying, begging to please let me see you where you last stood when you were whole. Before that cursed aneurysm led to a stroke, which in turn began a slow decay 18 months in the making. You, my Hawaiian Superman, lay immobile as your body betrayed you and turned into Kryptonite.
Almost 8 years ago, I told you it was okay to let go. And so you flew. You were free.
But I have not let go, da. Where do I begin? Grief's paths have so many twists and turns, and I am still lost. Standing in the middle of nowhere. The roads before and beyond are daunting, and I cannot trust my own hesitant steps. My feet are much too small to walk surely into the forest that I know holds promises of new beginnings.
I'm scared to let go.
2 comments:
Was very touched with your blog. I also don't have my dad with me, with us. Alive but not with us. I wonder now which hurts more? Knowing your dad is free from pain, but you know he is watching over you, or having your dad here, but you're not sure if he cares. I guess theres no such thing as more when your hurting..or sad.. right? Nice blog. :)
Salamat at kumusta, Cassandra.
You're right, Cassandra--there is no such thing as "more" when it comes to pain. A lot of people--writers usually being guilty of doing it--try to give levels or degrees to pain when in reality, pain is pain. A pain felt in a short period of time can be just as intense as one felt in a span of decades, simply because this pain irreversibly marked the feeler's life and changed it in some way, shape, or form.
I read your blog, too and I must say, I was also very moved. Magaling ka na manunulat. Nararamdaman ng mga nag-babasa ang sakit at pag-asa na nasa iyong luob. Hindi pa tapos ang kabanata na ito...at sana mayro'ong masayang tuldok ito.
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