20th December 2008

The 20th of December 2004 was a sad day for me as I reached Singapore from Dubai in a fixated haste, only to learn that I was too late. My father's passed on, he's left, he's gone. I didn't make it in time to say my last goodbye. Death has relieved him of his pain but reduced me of my Daddy.

I stood in the middle of the arrival hall in Changi International Airport Terminal One. And cried.

I stood by his body, later, in the living room of my childhood home in Gillman Heights. And cried.

I wasn't there at the burial, on the same day, because I stayed at home and surrounded myself with his things. And cried.

I visited his resting place some time after that. And cried.

" Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,

I am the softly falling snow.

I am the gentle showers of rain,

I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,

I am in the graceful rush

Of beautiful birds in circling flight,

I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,

I am in a quiet room.

I am in the birds that sing,

I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there. I do not die. "

-Mary Frye

Four years on, I don't cry anymore but in my heart, in my mind, in my dreams and in everything of every place that I go, my daddy lives still.

And she will too. In yours.

I miss him everyday and I miss him much but I miss him with a smile.

And you will too. Of her.