Well, that pretty much sums it up. This post is entirely dedicated to my dad, who passed away 2 months ago. And that explains my absence here as well. He's been filled my mind and I couldn't write or read anything. I remember the last day when I held his hands and told him to push me hard to check how strong he was. I was talking about taking selfie with him that night. I wish I had clicked one. He slipped quietly in his sleep during the month of Ramadan on a Friday early morning. The holy month of Ramadan gave us patience and strength to handle our loss.
After a week, I had a dream as if I were trying to wake him up from his deep slumber like I always do every morning with a cup of tea. He slowly opened his eyes and smiled at me. He was awake, wide awake. His eyes twinkled in tears. I was overjoyed and pulled him out of his grave. Then together we walked back home. I still remember how I felt in my dream that he was back from death. I called my mom and brothers to tell that I woke vaapa from his sleep. He went into the room and sat in the corner of his bed. I held his hands and asked how it was there in the Hereafter. He replied thoughtfully, it was dark. Consciously in my sleep, I thought to myself, perhaps that was Allah's will not to reveal the Hereafter to us, the living. It felt good when I woke up in the morning and saw the sunlight peeking through my windows, shining bright. It was a nice dream and it gave me hope that everything would be alright.
My father was always there for me. We had some ugly fights and the most beautiful moments to cherish. Having both ups and downs in our relationship, I know he was the one person in my life who would do absolutely anything for me, for his children.
I remember when I was a little girl, my brother and I used to lie down in our roof top with mom and dad, munching apples after dinner, listening to the stories he tell. He brought down the stars and the moon for us. I remember how I walked behind him, jumping and placing my feet in his footprints thinking I'd grow up soon like him. Well, he made a mark in my life but then he always say I am more like my mom and my brothers are more like him.
His old photographs say how cool and stylish he was. He carried himself so well. A charismatic person. He was very passionate. I looked up to him in my growing period. He was the one person who supported me till his last breath. We have had our moments. To smile, to cry, to think, to linger, to reminisce, well, now my memories are soaked in a sepia tone.
Vaapa, I will miss your hugs, your laughs and even your anger. I will miss the fun being with you. I will certainly miss our arguments. I miss our scrabble days. I will miss your complaints. I will miss your stories. I will miss posing for your camera. I will miss how you pull Umma's legs. I will miss your first wish on my birthdays. I miss so many things with you. I really did not know I would miss you this much, and If only I knew.... I miss you, vaapa. I really do.
Sometimes it is hard to accept the reality that he is no more, as I feel his presence everywhere. He is still here with us. He is a part of me. I can feel him in me. I will miss him more than any words can describe. He has given us the love and the care we could always hold onto and I will cherish that forever.
I love you, Vaapa. May Allah grant you the highest ranks in Jannah. Be at peace. Aameen!