A Motherless Daughter

For Dad,

I’m sorry for being such a hypocrite.

When I said that I was okay with mom’s death, but refused to get out of bed afterward

When I told you it was because you were never home, truth was I just simply missed mom

When I refused to have a new mom, although I knew you needed her the most

When I stayed quiet as you asked ‘how’s school?’, while I wanted to tell you stories

When I made you wonder why I was so preserved, I was just shy and afraid of being judged

When I cried and blamed you, since I myself did not know why my tears burst

And till your death, I will always be one

When people asked if I am okay, I will nod and pretend that I am strong

However, deep inside I am not okay, I haven’t moved on even from mom’s death

Father's day. A day to commemorate fathers that plays a significant role in our lives. For me, my father is the sole reason that I am here, able to catch up with the way the world is - the way it loves and judges at the same time. The way it hurts me so much yet insists me to outgrow myself so I can be a better person.

When my mother died, I could not bear with the guiltiness and loneliness. I cried almost every day, not wanting to accept that mom's presence will be replaced with everybody's pity and judgment. That time as I just turned 5 years old, I learned hypocrisy the first time when people expressed their condolences in front of my father but said the other way around when he was not there.

"I pity her, she will grow without a mom. Will she be a fine lady?"

"I know, I doubt her father can raise her well"

"Her father should have gotten a better doctor."

The world suddenly turned into a darker place. I was expecting to have a little sister to play with but why did I get these hurtful words instead? I despised people ever since, I felt that I cannot trust anyone completely. 

The next day after my mother's funeral, I woke up and found nobody beside me. That moment, I felt lonely for the first time. Flashes of my mother stroking my hair as I woke up came and made me cry so hard I could not breathe. I was suffocating and felt like I was going to die. However, he came. He came all the way from his office, ditched his meeting and got into traffic jam for hours just to hug and comfort me. He taught me there is still a glimpse of light in this dark bitter world.

Not only hope, he taught me to stand up for myself and accept things that I don't have as a part of me instead of what I lack of. When I was small, there was a children song about a mother's love in which on of the sentence was like this: A child without a mom, is like weed. Hence, I asked him does that mean that I am categorized as one of those 'weed' kids.

"Of course not, even your mom is gone, you have me, and most importantly - you are an independent individual that can stand up for yourself"

He is also my source of assurance. Naturally, ever since then, I am afraid of loss. Other people's action and death - they are something that I have no power to control. It's just a matter of time till the reaper escorts my father to death too - but when? Can I know when so I prepare myself? This anxiety was always in mind that it bothers me so much, I asked him once after he got home from a doctor's appointment: "Dad, when are you going to die?"

Instead of showing a pale face to such a depressing question, he answered so easily, "The earliest after you got married, I want to see my grandchild if possible!".

The way he answered my question, reminded me to live in the present, and not in the past or future. I should see the past as a lesson, and not as a nightmare. While the future is for us to await with excitement but not to fear.

As the world moved on, I learned to live with the fact that mom died. Every time somebody apologizes as knowing that my mom has died, I always said that it's fine. Truth is, it is not fine, you can say that I just learned how to live on with it. It's like wearing socks with a hole in it and then you decided that you're okay with the hole instead of patching it, since it is not something you can patch. And yes that hole can be bothersome in so many ways. Such as that tingling feeling of jealousy when you see your friend is shopping with her mom, jabbed as you saw your friend skyped with her family - complete with her mother and younger sibling, weird angriness when your friends have a quarrel with their mom, tears that came out of nowhere, loathing myself yet also blaming the world for such unfairness, tormented because of my own silly thoughts of "What if mom is still here? what if I didn't ask for a little sister? Will she be alive now?". Then, why did I say I am fine? Just because I'm sick of that look of pity that I get all the time.

Despite all those things that turned me into a bitter person, I was led by my father in my early life. He was the only one who called me as I built my own world, stacked neatly with my own thoughts that will soon bury me to insanity. He taught me to speak up instead of punishing myself behind. He told me to focus on what is in front of you instead of crumbling apart because of people's words from the back. He was the reason that I can believe again and give the world, and myself a second chance. 

Happy father's day to everyone in the world. Cherish your father while you can.

"A father is a daughter's first love".