I can’t believe that it’s already been a month since we laid my sweet daddy to rest. Time needs to slow down. I’m not ready to accept that thirty days have gone by since I bid him farewell. I know I’ll see him again. I know that death is just temporary. I know it all. But that doesn’t make it any easier. Not a day goes by when I don’t miss him. I can’t bring myself to actually saying the words. Sometimes when people who don’t know ask me how my family is doing, I just nod my head and smile. How can I say with my own mouth that my dad is no more? How is that even possible? I still talk about him in the present tense and it kills me when I have to stop and rephrase my sentence to the past tense.

I can still hear his voice in my head. When I close my eyes, I still feel him needle me around just to get under my skin. And when I talk to my mother, I half expect him to pop into the screen and complain about how I am sharing secrets with her and how I need to repeat every single word back to him. But none of it happens. I wish with all my heart that this was all a bad dream and that I would just wake up and realize that everything is fine; that my life hasn’t changed forever. What I wouldn’t give to see him point a finger at me when in fact it was he who farted. I would gladly take the blame.

If only I could turn back time. I would undo all the times I got frustrated with him. I’d never stay mad at him. I would listen to him more, argue less, and freely let him annoy me. I would gladly give him all the Haleem he wanted, and willingly hand over even my share of ice cream. I think of all the times I got worked up and upset with him and I wonder – was it worth it? Was it worth sweating the small stuff? Is it ever worth it? If I could turn back time, I would tell him that I loved him over and over again till it embarrassed him. I’d never complain about how his mustache poked my face when he kissed me. I would gladly let him kiss me. Even just one more kiss will do. Just one more. If I could turn back time, I would swap places with him in a heartbeat.

I know that’s not possible.

However, what is possible is this – That I hold on to his memories – Loads and loads of memories. And I will cherish every single one of them to my final breath. I remember the many times I was able to trick him into signing my report card mere seconds before I raced into school because I was too chicken to face the music for my low grades (Darn that stupid Math!) Of course, he more than made up for it by ratting me out to my mom that very evening (Traitor!). I remember how he warned me that he would throw me out of the house if I ever brought a boy home. You should’ve seen his face when not one but two boys became my best friends and basically spent all of their time in my house (Joke’s on you dad!). The rhymes he came up with to blame everyone else for that stinky fart (Yikes!). He was my knight in shining armor who rescued me from the wall lizards in my house. And the moths. And the roaches. Basically every creepy, crawly. He told me not to bother if my goal was not to excel. When everyone else gave beggars the unsolicited advise to go find work, he told me to give them a bigger bill because who were we to judge their situation? What if they really did need the money and that God was trying to use me to meet their need? Would that extra cash really drill a hole in my pocket?

Everybody loved my dad. Especially the woman with leprosy who stood outside our window till he gave her alms – she came every day, and he gave her money every day for several years; the lame beggar at the church gate – I cannot tell you the number of times my dad made me walk back to the gate because he forgot to give him some money that Sunday. If I mistakenly took out a small bill, my dad would give me a dirty look, and not so politely remind me to give enough money for the man to purchase a good meal. After all, what was the point of God’s blessings if I couldn’t pay them forward?

I miss him.

I miss him so much.

If I knew I’d miss him this much, I would’ve spent every waking moment with him. I would’ve called him everyday and I would’ve never gotten irritated with him.

Gosh how I miss him.

Having said all of this, there’s another, more important thing that I need to say and you need to know – As my family and I continue to grieve, I know without a shadow of doubt that “we do not grieve as those without hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the dead in Christ will rise again” (1 Thessalonians 4:14-15 paraphrased).

Happy one month in heaven daddy! I will always love you!

In closing I must say – I lift my eyes up, my help comes from the Lord!

PS: I often times write out my raw and intimate emotions. I do this not so you, my reader, are aware of my deepest pain. I write this way so that you, my reader, will know, in your moment of immense heart ache, that you are not alone. I write so that you will always have at least one person who knows what you’re going through.