One year already.

First of, I would just like to thank you; whoever you might be behind your screen, if you have found yourself reading my posts – or even just this one. I am aware that these past few months, my feed hasn’t been the most joyous place on the internet; but it somehow felt right.

Today is a particular day for me: One year ago already, on the 22 of June 2019, I was spending the last few hours next to my dad and his beating heart. He wasn’t conscious then, but I remain certain he knew we were with him. You might think sickness prepared me to lose him, but you’re never ready. At least I wasn’t. The only thing I was ready for was to stop seeing him suffer.
One year later, I find myself on the side of the ones who believe their loved ones carry on existing through signs and energies.
One year later, the pain isn’t easier, it is just different.
One year later and I haven’t gotten used to it nor moved on, but I have moved forward.
One year later and I realize that the journey is only beginning… and that’s ok because somehow, somewhere, he is beside me.
“Funny” enough, one year later and it feels like he has never been so abscent in my life but so alive in it. And that’s a very odd feeling.

Anyways, I wrote this short poem a few days back, whilst laying on the floor after my yoga practice, and I wanted to share it today.

Thank you reader,
I love you.

“Well Daddy, it’s been a year already.

One year.
It has never been so long. I have never been so lonely.
One year.
It is also what you said to me: “The day he died, is the day I lost me.”
One year.
It is all new to me. Lord knows I have been away, but you were never far from me.
One year.
Being without a smile is one thing, but without a word really hurts me.
One year.
It is bad to think you left this early; it is even worse you knew the day was coming and it made you suffer for me.
One year.
It is a long while but you fought it more than three times to prepare me.
One year.
It is a short while compared to eternity. What a lousy feeling to think this is when you might finally be able to see me.
One year.
It was cancer. Not you. Not me.
One year.
As promised, I do it all to make you proud now Daddy.


One Reply to “One year already.”

  1. That poem was absolutely beautiful and could feel the emotion in the words!
    A great, beautiful and emotional way to pay respect!


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