no man can be trusted... men! they're so alike. love this line from the movie grease "men are rats, worse than that, they are ameobas on fleas on rats, they're too low for even dogs to bite(no wonder they're dogs best friends), the only man a girl can depend on is her daddy"...oops my bad, cos you can't even depend on your good ol' dad too, because daddies like the rest of the male folks always leave too, trust me on this...just when i needed him the most he had to like die... i mean why would he die, just one reason why he had to leave, he had a perfect(well almost perfect)life, a beautiful and hardworking wife, four beautiful daughters, a handsome son and host of others who just loved him so he had no reason what so ever for leaving, except just being a typical male...

i've asked why a thousand times, why men always find a way to break your heart and why there is death? but i never get a good enough answer.i only had fifteen years of my life with dad, but it was enough to make me love him and trust him and care for him fiercely, not because he was my dad but because he was a good man who was there and who always made me laugh...(how many men can make a girl laugh), and like men do when you reach the highest peak of your feelings for them, its a cue for them to take a hike... and so daddy left.
death is such a havoc of nature, a reaper of life, with it comes pain and hurt and anger and confusion. its dug such a deep hole in my heart, that no matter how full of life i sometimes feel, that place always remains viod. one of the greatest gift or should i say compensation Gods given me for breaking my heart is my nieces, i see them as Gods apology to the family, me especially.and of course memories count too as a sort of compensation. it keeps the light shining, iremember the good times to keep me strong, i remember dad in everyday things i see and do, he comes alive in certain songs and food and jokes, in things he used to enjoy in life.

my memories have been a soothing salve for the sting death has dealt in my heart.6 yrs ago and its so amazing how it always seems like yesterday that he was standing next to me and giving me hugs, dishing out kisses, sneaking up behind me and pinching my ears, made me cry... i still cry every other day when i remember how we laughed together and played and argued(well he did most of the talking and i just sulked), i cry at the happy moments, i cry at the rough moments(cos i regret the times i wasted not talking to him for things so little, if he could come back and do them to me again, i'd just smile at him and hug him through the scolding session) i cry at the memory of how he used to make us all laugh... i cry because tears are the appropriate response to my grief. a friend read the words of Julie Burchill to me"tears are sometimes an inappropriate response to death, when life has been lived completely honestly, completely successsful or just completely, the correct response to deaths perfect puntuation mark is a smile..." i kind of understood that but i needed to cry all the same, i needed to cry in the midst of my smile. yes i'll keep smiling for his good life, but what about me?... i'll keep crying for me, for all i'll achieve without him cheering me on, he wasn't there at my graduation, what about my first real job, my wedding....but then maybe leonardo da vinci got it right when he said"our life is made by the death of others, death of a loved one is what breaks or strenghtens us." at the funeral, i watched as the casket was lowered, i watched as people hugged us, tapped us on the back, held us and told us "its alright", "i know how you feel", but how did they know it was going to be alright, or how we felt, they had no right to tell us to "stop crying" or "take heart" because they'll never be us and so they'll never know how and what we felt. the day of the burial is just a day of entertainment, a social gathering to them, while its a day of letting go for us. and the tomorows after the funeral is so frustrating(don't you just hate it)when everyone feels they've done enough comforting and your house becomes empty and you're surrounded by such a deep eering silence... thats when you scream and cry in agony your frustrations, your grief, your fears... and ask why? . i've come to realise that not everything has a clear meaning, life is basically about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing whats going to happen next....i still wonder despite this why he had to be all macho and leave...

what prompted my talk on death, men and leaving? i don't know....ah.. yes, i got back from church (this present house) and spent the day sleeping, woke up this evening to the sound of the rain outside and then my thoughts drifted to dad, the man who i was a mother to, who saw me as his star and baby, and at that moment i missed him fiercy and just wanted to hug him and hold him tight, just a moment with him was all i wished for at that point... and then it hit me that i was thinking hard to remember the smell of him... how pathetic can it be, i couldnt/can't even remember what the man i loved smelt like, i remember his smile(cos i see it in mine) but why can't i remember the smell that i knew so well... it scares me a lot, what if i'm loosing him again, loosing his memory? i'm going to ask my sisters and brother and i'm going to sit still and try to remember that scent.... i love him and i miss him and i love him even more, despite the fact that he's been a typical male to me...if he can leave me what other proof do i need to know that "people always leave" no matter how much you love and trust and cherish them.


  1. indeed death is a scar....we would be healed someday!


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