3id.
Tomorrow marks the third Eid since my dad passed away. He died of a stroke, and in many ways, I began losing him the moment he was diagnosed in 2013. So—for all intents and purposes—I’ve been missing him for nearly five years now. We planted a tree on his grave, hoping its bloom would remind us of the love we shared and brighten the quiet emptiness he left behind.
I’ve made peace with most things in life. I try to swallow hard truths and do the right thing even when it’s difficult, just to avoid living with regret. But one regret lingers—the arrogance of youth I once showed my father before he fell ill. It wasn’t out of spite. Just some misguided need to prove myself worthy of his greatness.
What truly blindsided me after his passing was the loneliness. Despite being surrounded by love, there’s a void that nothing fills. It feels indulgent to admit, knowing not everyone had what I had—but I didn’t appreciate it until it was gone. That’s the truth.
There will never be another who loves me as purely and unconditionally as he did. I know this—and he knew it too.
I don’t share this to elicit pity (remember, I was spoiled!). I share it to remind you to appreciate the ones who love you. If you care about them, show them. Let them know what they mean to you. That’s all—it’s not rocket science.
On that note, to all my Muslin friends, Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri, maaf zahir dan batin! I hope you spend your time meaningfully with your loved ones.