![]() My father was a flawed man, but he was a genuinely good man - good in that pure, innocent, unfailing way we usually only find in books or movies. There is no way to recover from the death of someone you love. It would have made him so happy to see what joy we’ve found in our lives: to see my sister studying medicine and biophysics, to see my brother return safely from serving in Afghanistan, to see my little brother doing local comedy shows, to see me on the cover of TIME magazine while expecting what would have been his first grandchild. It hurt him to leave at a time when we were all struggling, knowing he wouldn’t be with us when we needed him the most. We were struggling financially, struggling emotionally as we tried to adjust to living in a city after living isolated in a small town, and we were all deeply unhappy. He left us at a time when our family was struggling. The world feels less bright, less wonderful, less good without him. The grief has never subsided, and, if anything, the pain has only grown stronger each year. When he died, family and friends told me that the grief would subside with time, that time would dull the pain. Used with permission.My father passed away eight years ago. ![]() *Article originally posted on From my fingertips. I love you.ĭisclaimer: The views of columnists published on Parent24 are their own and therefore do not necessarily represent the views of Parent24. Mommy always says you’re the one who motivated me when I was in primary school so she didn’t have to when I got to high school. Thank you for being a good, hard working human being who encouraged me to be the best person I can be and to do the best I can in everything I wish to achieve. I still cry sometimes, but it’s easier to now laugh and smile at the memories. I used to cry a lot in the beginning because of the void left by your death, but as I got older it got a bit easier. Happy that you were in my dream and sad that it ended too soon. When I dream about you, I feel happy and sad at the same time. I like to believe you’re watching over mommy and me. It gives me a feeling of warmth inside to hear these things about you and inspires me to be the kind of daughter you’d be proud of. They always mention how you made them laugh, always listened, how you always helped whoever you could with whatever you could. ![]() You’ve left people with a lot of good memories of you. Your generosity and selflessness is inspiring and unmatched. You were always there for people when they needed help and you never expected or wanted payment for helping people. I get to be proud when people (to this very day) still talk about what a fantastic man you were. Not just on Father’s Day, but on your birthday and every other day of the year. You’re not here anymore and I don’t get to do anything exciting for you. In my head, I already have your gift, have the day planned and mommy and I are in cahoots to keep it a surprise for you, but then reality is stone cold. I have to admit (and this may sound silly and petty), but I am a little envious of all the people who get to spoil their dads on Sunday. Every situation that I find myself in (be it a family function, my matric ball, my graduation from university) I imagine a scenario where you’re present and sharing in the happy moments. Not a day goes by when I don’t imagine what life would be like had you not died. I miss your words of wisdom, your sense of humour (I think you’d like my sense of humour, though I tend to be a tad cynical) and I miss the sound of your laughter. ![]() I miss the sound of your voice, how you’d call me Emmy (you’re still the only person who called me by that nickname). It’s been slightly more than 13 years since I last saw you, spoke to you, touched your hand, hugged you or just sat in your presence.
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