I AM: A PIECE OF HIM
The day began like every other, with a slow ease into the responsibilities that accompanies each day; from personal routine to my desk facing my laptop. As usual, I began with checking my mails and easing into the office task that lies ahead; a pattern I have gotten all too used to over time. While taking my break, I decide to include a photo on my blog profile so I took a photo of myself; like I usually do, I took a couple of them so I could choose the best one … you know, right angle, good lighting etc (women, we all do this). Anyways, so I finally narrow down to one and I upload it in my blog profile.
I do this almost unconsciously as I kept looking at the photo still open on my Laptop, I caught myself starring at it blankly, like in a trance; my thoughts must have gotten the best of me, because I began to have flashbacks. You know the glossy screen images of your life filled with subtle smiles and some element of wonder.
I thought about when I was much younger, all the games we played; My days in the university-daily routine of singing in the shower, chores, getting ready, lecture halls, friends, some laughter and then back home, with little or no care of what the world is; totally unaware of what the future holds.
It’s amazing what memories looking at a photo can trigger, maybe it is because I have been mentally taking stock of my life or just good old plain trip down the memory lane. Whichever it was, It was a good getaway. I lost touch with reality for a moment; it felt good to escape for a little while. To be able to dive back into life already lived, and to explore the beauty of some kind of fantasy drift.
Then my phone rings, jolting back to life almost, I proceed to answer the call, then I go back to close the photo page so I could hurry out and get something for lunch before time ran out, and there I was looking at this photo again and it struck me. My Dad!
I suddenly remembered an old photo of him stored away safely in my heart, a vivid mental image projected it into a life size portrait. “I look like my father”, I started thinking to myself. I always thought that we had similar features, but this photo hit the nail on the head. His eyes, his lips, the shape of his face, even the way he smiled… I saw them all in the photo I took of myself.
Remembering my father in such an unexpected way, I must have been thinking of him unconsciously maybe, because it felt too real. The tears that came rushing to my eyes, blurring my vision; with such raw emotions felt more like him embracing me, than me wanting to hold him again.
Looking at my life now, I am truly my father’s daughter. I remember the things he used to do and how he used to do them, his love for his friends and family. Anyone who ever knew my father only had something good to say about him if asked, sometimes without even asking; these are the qualities that i long to posses, to be a caring, loving and patient person, friend, sister, daughter,wife, colleague etc. I aspire to be a constant blessing to people.
So pops, on this day. I say… You've raised a STRONG, BEAUTIFUL, INTELLIGENT Woman, all i need to do, is think of you. Even though you've been asleep for the past 12 years your memory and values live on.
Love you today Daddy, like I will even more tomorrow, and better than I did yesterday.
Be the kind of person your child will be proud of imitating. Truth lies in the heart of the innocent (child), and it unfolds as they grow older (adult). Children never really forget, they always remember who their parents were growing up and how they treated them and others.
Me and my Dad.