To My First Love – My father

On this father’s day, when I see my friends posting amazing quotes, pictures and gifts for their fathers on social media, I can’t help but be a little jealous. He was my first love. And I don’t want to admit this, but I miss him.

My father was a great man. And today if I’m loved and respected by my relatives, it’s because of him. He was a role model to me and still I try to be like him. I realized it the other day when someone complimented me, “You’re just like your father.” Well, I try… He was a good man, and I lost him without a warning.

I still remember how he hugged me when, in middle school, I got second position in my class. He was so happy,  and I can’t forget the shine in his eyes. It was hard when I got into college without him to see. At every step, at every decision I’ve made, and at every part of my educational life, he was supposed to be the one I looked up to. At each achievement of mine, I wished he could be there, and just say, “I’m proud of you.”

I still remember. The day he died, I had my exam the next day. He would always ask me how my paper went. He used to get me from the examination hall and I had to go with my friend that day. On our way back, my friend got a call from her father who asked her how her paper went. That was the first time I felt empty, I felt lonely, I felt so sad, I missed him so much, that I still remember the feeling.

I remember how, when it was my birthday and he was out of the town, he sent me a cake home. He always gifted me cards on my birthdays that said, “With love… Baba!” And on each birthday of mine, he would ask me what my age is, shake his head and say, “You’re getting old.”

There were countless times since April of 2012 that I’ve felt this agonizing emptiness within me, and I remember the feeling. Whatever I do, whenever I’m in pain, whenever I’m very happy, he’s always on my mind. It’s so hard for me to do this without him. I don’t tell this to anyone but it’s killing me on the inside, and whenever I see a daughter with her father, it hurts, and I miss him. I just…miss him.

On my big day, when I get married, it pains me to be aware that he wouldn’t be with me. When I graduate, he wouldn’t be here. When I succeed in life, he would be here. He wouldn’t say, “I’m proud of you.”  The worst part? I didn’t get to say this to him: I’m so proud of you, dad. And I love you so much… If I got one chance, all I would really want to do is hug you.

If your father is alive, please appreciate his presence. You might think you “understand” what it’s like to live without him, but trust me, you don’t. So, please, give him all your love, don’t make him cry, and just appreciate him. Because I would love to get a glance of my father… Just once. I really wish I could see him get old, see his first kid getting married. I wish he could see his grandchildren.

But I hope he’s just the way I saw him in my dream the other day, I hope he has those strong, big wings, and I hope he was right when he said that angels were waiting for him. I hope he’s happy, and I hope he knows that I miss him… It’s been a roller coaster of emotions after you…

Blame the fact that I don’t talk about him, but this post drained all of my energy.

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One thought on “To My First Love – My father

  1. Pingback: June 2016 – what I’m watching, reading, listening to, chaos, a lesson, behind the scenes, updates and top posts! | Munazza Bangash

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