๑۩۞۩๑ hideaway ๑۩۞۩๑

flet me start by saying i envy her.

i envy her for having most of the time in the world to get to know hers, but most of all i envy her for getting to know mine.

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she needed advice on this job she took, and the consultant she got to hire incidentally (or perhaps not by accident, i’d like to believe) was him. i have always evaded questions about him in the past, thus it came as a surprise for her when he asked her if she knew me. she said she did, and what astonished her more was when he hesitantly told her “she’s my baby… can you please ask her if it’s alright if daddy will come visit her one of these days?”

it has been 8 long years since i last spoke with him, and i remember the day i vowed never to talk to him again, like it was just yesterday. it was a proud moment for me, that day, calling him up to ask him to come to my college graduation, a feat i have successfully hurdled even without him in my life to urge me on. in the background i heard his voice commanding his secretary to tell me that “he was not in” — the same voice i have always longed to hear saying “i love you, daughter.”

and the kind of pain that that rejection has inflicted on me, the pain my father caused me, was almost unbearable. and so i sowed anger.

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i almost convinced myself that whatever happened to him would not affect me in any way. things that he’d say and things that he’d do would be as inconsequential to me as knowing the exact geographical coordinates of Bourkina Fasso.

but her revelation tapped a wellspring of smothered emotions, and i found myself excited at the prospect of seeing him again. at one point i felt that i should indulge him, so i could liberate my monsters, cut and pierce him with my serrated words; equivocally i also wanted to, in his face, viciously turn him down so that he’d think of the moment he refused to talk to me almost a decade ago in his deathbed. such macabre thoughts i had, with all options involving wreaking emotional pain. i was affected, alright.

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he looked older, old. the bustle of youth has finally given way to the passivity of age. and i was, once again, fascinated.

i wanted to fill myself with memories of him… little things i’ve been deprived of as a child. for the first time in my life, i noticed that he has a scar at the tip of his middle finger in his left hand, that he was not so tall after all, that i had the same laugh, the same eyes. i clung to details, and i drank of him, trying to intoxicate myself with the pleasure of finally being in proximity with my father, bridging two decades of separation with a single shared meal.

for a while we trudged on neutral ground, but in a bit my anguish surged in a violent torrent. i lunged at him, demanding to know why he did not even bother to ask about me all those years. i told him i was enraged at his behavior, that he did not deserve to be blessed with children. i questioned his ability to love. i said all sorts of things, hurtful things, which he serenely embraced and acknowledged with a slight bow of his head and tender caresses on my back.

and in a melodramatic anticlimax, i had a revelation. i realized that i was only hurting myself by grasping onto my pain. in order for me to be strong, i had to take in my father’s frailty. so i released the misery i felt for my loss, and with renewed resolve, looked at my dad through new eyes.

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there had been a moment when my dad simply clasped my hand tightly in his. with a melancholic expression, he looked into my eyes, and without saying a word, he said “i’m sorry and i love you”. my soul met his, and i understood.

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my life has changed. i have confronted the greatest hang-up of my life, demanded answers to nagging questions. i now know the whole chronicle of my personal history; my completeness defies description.

physically, i am still away from my father. but i know better now. the ties that bind me to him, no matter how fragile, transcend time and distance.

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her experience working with him was not a coincidence. she had been an angel, an instrument to my letting go of a past hurt. and yes, though she still has more opportunities to get to know him, everything is going to be alright. so let me end this by saying that i envy her no more.