“A father’s tears and fears are unseen, his love is unexpressed, but his care and protection remain as a pillar of strength throughout our lives.” — Ama H. Vanniarachchy
Papa, I can hardly believe it has been a little over two years since your passing.
There is not a day that goes by that I do not think about you.
Sometimes a sight, a smell, or a sound will evoke the memory of you.
. . .
It could just be a mundane moment, such as when I observe pedestrians crossing the street while driving.
I recall how you advised me to slow down or let children cross the street first.
Or it could be something prudent, such as telling me never to make assumptions and always ask for what I want.
You were such a masterful storyteller and always had so many fantastic tales to tell.
. . .
All too often, I would ring you up on the phone to ask for your guidance on something or the other.
I often ponder what you would have done in a situation. You always had a nugget of wisdom to impart.
I miss the sound of your voice and wish I could chat with you like in the good old days.
You so enjoyed sharing humorous anecdotes about your beloved family back in the homeland.
. . .
You were always unapologetic in knowing what you wanted and going after it.
You lived life on your own terms and did not care about other people’ s opinions.
Some people might have disliked these particular traits of yours, but I have come to admire them with time.
. . .
We bonded over our love for Mexican and Indian food while you visited our home.
We loved to go shopping in the outlet malls, always on the hunt for a good bargain.
. . .
I discovered during the pandemic lockdown that we could watch throwback episodes of our favorite television programs.
I wondered if you knew about these throwback shows and how we might have enjoyed rewatching them together.
. . .
There is a pullover sweater I gifted you over 25 years ago that now hangs in a closet in our guest bedroom.
Every time I look at this sweater, I feel a pang of nostalgia recalling how often you wore it.
. . .
Your children and grandchildren have inherited your passion for writing.
I only recently began writing stories and wish I could share my pieces with you.
Perhaps we could have collaborated on a children’s book.
You were such a masterful storyteller and always had so many fantastic tales to tell.
. . .
You may be gone, but we will never forget you.
You will remain alive forever in our hearts and memories.
—
This post was previously published on Passive Asset.
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