In Hushed Whispers
Today has been incredibly sad. It’s been 3 years since my Dad died.
I still remember that day. Around 4 AM in the morning, my Mom called. She was crying. She told me Dad passed away. I needed to get home.
I didn’t know what to do. I hugged Rea, cried, and hugged her tighter. I knew it would happen but never really thought it would happen too soon. I booked a plane flight back home on that same morning. I was anxious, terrified. I got home at around 10 AM. The casket was already set in the sala. I saw my Mom sitting beside Dad’s casket. I hugged her and cried again.
I never really checked my Dad’s face, I didn’t have the courage back then. I wanted to remember him the way he was before with his grey, curly hair, dark and sullen skin, and full of life, full of humor. He was never really the best Dad one could ask for. In fact, he was terrible, he was the worst. But I still loved him.
The next day was too painful. Being the only child present in the country at that moment, I processed his papers - hospital bills and needed requirements for his death certificate. In every office I went to, from the hospital, to the City Hall and the morgue, and each time I saw his name on the papers, I started crying. I met Zonumi that day. I hugged her and cried again. I asked my Mom that I had to go back. I wanted to be with Rea. She was my home. She was the only one who gave me peace when everything was painful.
For years after that day, it was the last time that I cried. I’ve been asking myself why. Maybe because I was happy being with Rea. There were times that I noticed I’ve become stoic about my feelings. It was hard for me to show emotions, even with Rea. Was it a way for me to protect myself from being hurt? I didn’t really know. But it felt heavy.
I asked my therapist about it. He told me I was not allowing myself to grieve. I kept holding on to my Dad’s memories and I was fighting myself and my own emotions. To tell you the truth, I still don’t know what kept me from showing what I felt. But it has taken a toll on a lot of aspects of my life. My relationship with Rea, with myself. Again, it felt too heavy. And that heaviness all fell on me simultaneously during the past few months.
After 3 years, it’s become sadder. The walls that were protecting me were gone. This sadness, all this confusion and rage were too new to me. I couldn’t handle all this pain, but now the tears won’t stop. It’s the kind of pain that I know I can’t bear, yet I have to endure. But things have changed. I can’t find Rea. My home is gone.
It’s all my fault.