Someone special is he who stays forever and Daddy does, in many hearts.

This year September 17th was my father’s 23rd Death Anniversary and it never gets easy, I wonder how can it not, how even after so many years, even after forgetting how his voice sounded, I haven’t healed any. I sometimes wonder if subconsciously I don’t want to, but then it is not in my hands that I cannot forget or recall, I wish it was, I would change how it cripples me to think of his sudden death, his last minutes of his life all alone in a pool of blood and struggle marks on his always well polished brown boots haunt me forever, maybe if he had died in front of me or died because of ill health I wouldn’t miss him much, I am not sure but I do wonder.
Thinking about his last minutes, wondering if death came easy, if he was unconscious when he died or if he was conscious and in great pain with difficulty breathing, wondering if it was even an accident, I cannot, just cannot breathe, I don’t mean to put it all out here, I try to keep it light but then it all comes back to me and I suffer, I don’t expect all to understand but it hurts like hell, I live in a dark place in spite of light around me, his loss, his absence, his death, his words will haunt me forever, maybe haunt is not even the right word, he will forever live in my breaths here, forever, maybe it will make him happy to see how profound an effect he had on me, maybe he lives through me.
As for me I just hope and wish he knows that to me this world has a gigantic hole without him, that he is still someone’s most treasured.
I have been putting off writing this, just his thought, his name and my world scatters again. He was and will always be most special, special maybe because I know so little of him, an enigma my father is and my interest in knowing all of him will never subside, he’ll always remain a mystery, a void in my existence …

Some people come and never leave …
some people leave to never come …
some take a place in your heart …
some take the whole heart with them
leaving behind just a pumping lump …

©Seema Tabassum 2015
©lifeshues.org 2015
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All rights reserved.

P.S. I have told you in one of my recent posts that I will be putting pictures of my art journal(not really great) here along with the posts and so I have, only poetry is not art enough to me I’ve discovered. Kindly take a nice look at my journal, it smiles when someone looks at it’s pages, you’ll make it and me happy, and I will hopefully get better at this journaling with a little practice and trial and error so please bear with me, thank you.

To read another post on some personal stuff, on how drowning feels kindly click here. Thank you.
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