For those of you in the know, my father passed away in July this year.
The loss brought me grief and sorrow like I’ve never known. Coping is the only thing I can do now, slowly but surely I’m trying to make some semblance of sense into this thing called ‘my life’ now.
I’ve been dreaming of my dad lately.
In my dream, I woke up, my usual happy self, burst out my room door and happily hollered out to him from the upstairs hallway, expecting him to be downstairs, watching either CCTV 9 or National Geographic. Expecting like I always do for his reply, to which I’d answer with our ritual weekend breakfast date.
But silence greeted me.
And then reality hit me. The jolt was severe and sudden. And I awoke. The reality of his loss falling on me like a tonne of bricks.
Weekends will never be the same.
.
