14 Sept 11:11pm 

I got married as planned on 28 May. My father wasn't there but I saved him a seat. I felt hypocritical - when you were around I was always fearful you would make my wedding an unpleasant one, but without you, it did not feel complete. 

I married a man you detested, simply because he is a Christian. I wonder if deep down you truly hated him, or you were just so angry at your predicament you wanted to throw your anger at everyone in your way. 

I hate that I am not okay at all - isn't it strange - we were never close. Most of the times we were angry at each other, on a few good occasions we were there for each other. Or mainly I was there for you - after you became fragile and helpless. It pained my heart - it pained me how much I wanted to and tried to stay away so I wouldn't experience your helplessness. Now I wouldn't have to anymore. Yet I am not okay. 

I guess I am my father's daughter after all. 

I grew up treading around your fury that when you are gone, the huge wall of silence obliterated me. I read that once you've experienced grief, you start to hold onto and cherish whatever you have even more. I couldn't bear the same for mom, and yet I hope all of us - our whole family - could have banded to make different decisions for your life together. Then again, how could we - you were such a narcissist. 

Sometimes I wonder how my siblings are coping - I wonder how my brother is coping. I worry about him - and I feel sorry I got married so soon. I wish I had more time with them. All I could think of back then was to escape everything I was facing at home. 

I did love my father, and I miss him too. 

It's been 9 months since you left, and I don't think I will ever be okay. I just hope I am better able to deal with it. God, help me. 

 27th May, Sat 2:33am

A moth came to visit. I believe it's my father and he knows I am getting married. Things will never be the same again, but I will always be my parents' little girl. 

I thought I will be happy that I'm getting married but I find myself crying a lot this week. 

It feels like I am leaving my mom and brother behind. 

I am getting married on 28th May and I have saved you a seat. 

Please feel happy for me. 

26th May, Friday. 2:51am

3 days to wedding. 

The nearer we are, the harder it is amidst the joy and anticipation. 

So much has changed in the 5 months you've passed. We feel more liberated, the house is noisier, guests are coming and for the first time in forever the house has warmth. No fear of being scolded by you or the wrath of your anger. But still my happiness is only halved. It doesn't feel right. Not having my father around doesn't feel right. It's like a part of me always hurts, always aches, always guilts and always wants better for you. 

I feel like I've not done enough for you when you were in this world. 

I miss my father and I don't know in which realm he is at. 

Today we paid respects at the altar at home. It feels surreal and tough. I wonder how mom didn't cry, because I really wanted to. 

I always talked to you in the flesh but now I am talking to your urn.

Crazy isn't it? 

I still get little triggers when I see people that look like you, or things that remind me of you. 

I don't think we can ever recover from this. 

I don't think I can. 

This loss I will always bear and carry with me. 

The thing about losing a parent is the survivor guilt you grapple with along with the mini anxiety breaks. I'm not sure how anxiety feels but it happens in moments you think to yourself could I have done better as a daughter - could I have done more - could I have been less resentful - and it feels like you are teleported into a different dimension all by yourself and you zone out for a moment. And you have to pinch yourself back to reality. 

The closer it gets to 100 days, the more the sadness surges. 

I'm so terribly sorry for the loss. You should have cherished your life over money 

But maybe a part of you died forever when you lost your first leg. 

 I grapple with self-reproach and survivor guilt a lot. 

And the thing is I continue to face it almost daily, triggered by any small events. 

I think about how I could have and should have done better as your daughter. That if only I tried to understand you more, communicate with you and pushed myself out of my comfort zone. Perhaps you could have been here with us longer. 

But isn't it so pretentious - the way I wished you never exist in my life ever again and I wanted to get married and move far away from you. 

We never understood each other but deep down we must have loved each other, as father and daughter. 

Because half of me came from you. 

100 days of your passing is fast approaching. It's so crazy that day in day out we are always so busy, and a hundred days is upon us so soon. I don't know how to feel about that but I don't like to talk about it, not even with mom because it makes me cry. 

Since you passed I always make myself remember your voice. Because the people you love and care for never truly die if you keep remembering them. 

Aunt said you broke grandma's heart a lot when you were alive. You broke ours too. But I only want to remember the good things and not the way we all hurt one another. 

Mom has been saying she will be depressed after I get married and move out. I am very worried about her and her health. I wish God can help me to alleviate her sadness and loneliness. I think we should start by getting mom a cat. 

I will take good care of mom like I always do but I need to do even better now because father is no longer around. 

100 days soon, so crazy isn't it. I hate to think about it. 

 3 Mar 11:06pm

I wonder how the bills were paid in the past because my parents don't know much. 

I feel awful thinking of the times you reached out to me for help and I brushed it aside, I always replied you but I always wanted to scoot away too. We were never close and it was uncomfortable for conversations or even physically around you. 

I know I shouldn't feel so bad about myself because I have tried to be there for you and to help you. To lighten the financial burdens of our family. To buy you a meal. 

But I also spent years ashamed of you, ashamed of our family, ashamed of the person I am. 

Now I no longer wish to hide and I bare it all.

Today while eating dinner I thought of you and how you always loved the food mom cooked. 

I wonder if my father is really in heaven but I just hope he's no longer in pain. 

They say healing isn't linear but I sure as hell hope it is. 

 I don't talk about things that break my heart. Hence that makes me a coward. 

Today rained a lot, it poured. On my way home I saw there's another wake where we held the wake for my father. I walked home sadly in the rain.

Tonight I helped mom to set up her time deposit account and maximise her profits. I also helped her check her salary, look at bills together and taught her how she can pay her bills in different ways to maximise cashback savings.  

I know ah pa will not be too worried to leave mom behind because he knows I will take good care of her. 

So I need to do my part and do better and have patience. 

At Bali when I was doing massage in the private room without my phone and no distractions at all, my mind just wouldn't quiet. I had to face the thoughts of thinking of my father and how little time we had together that was not filled with animosity. I always wished things could be different. 

I still wish they are different. 

I always thought you had more time, because how could you not - I am not even 30 yet. 

The thing is 

when you lack the courage to face your grief head-on 

it affects you in surges and bursts 

the way you could go about your day 

and the pain just stops you in your tracks 

the way there's no big fat ugly tears to cry 

all the things you have been told and heard about 

you just feel like a jar of happiness

never ever filled to the brim again 

I think the right term to describe all these is 

the way i feel like "everything and nothing all at once" 

 There's a kind of loss you don't recover from.

It's the white elephant in the room against

the television set that's on a tad too loud 

to stifle the muted silence in the air 

it's your mother's face fighting back tears

removing traces of your father's existence 

the wheelchair, the bathroom facilities, the motorised vehicle

and her daughter asking 

wait it hasn't been a hundred days 

but does it really matter anymore 

it's the way the world continues to spin 

and how unjust it feels at such a young age

the way people process the loss of a parent 

like something you bounce back from 

the way you would peel back the plaster from a burn 

and amidst all that you've been through

you truly do not wish this upon anyone else 

a lot of things in life really don't matter 

yet so few people have recognised this 

I have been writing in my journal but this feels like poetry 

Today, we went down to officially close my father's bank account. 

Things like these are rather sad, but when your loved one passes on, albeit that person is someone as close as your parent, what needs to be done still has to be done. 

I feel my heart isn't in the right place to empathise with another these days. 

The way I feel it's deeply unfair that anyone should dictate how long a person ought to grieve for. The world continues to spin despite a family experiencing a giant gaping hole in its midst. And the way I would smile my way through my tears. 

Thing is we all mourn our loss differently and in my family there's a white elephant standing in the room of a life gone so early we could barely speak of it. 

Thing is I couldn't cry big tears - there's a certain kind of pain that slices your heart into pieces you tolerate the agony in silence. 

I also do not have the mood or joy to plan a happy occasion. 

It's all such a mockery in my face. 

My mother would like to buy me a necklace for my wedding. To me it's not so much the cost but the way it's especially meaningful because it's a gift from both my parents. That's priceless in itself. 

24 January, Tues 8:44pm 

Death looms over the house like imminent dark clouds 

it's the white elephant that lingers in the room 

like an unspoken oath to never mention the person who passed

the way you saw your mother quietly looking at old family photos 

in a corner, forcing a smile acting like everything is alright 

even if the said person is your father 

it's coercing myself to throw fragments of my memories out the window 

but the wound is so raw and it keeps bleeding so much it hurts 

they say nobody really leaves if you never stop remembering them

there's a lot of pain and a lot of regrets 

I wonder if it hurt for my father in his last moments 

I wonder if he was afraid 

I thought about how he was only sixty-six, how painfully young 

I wonder if he knew how thankful I am that he waited

and how deeply apologetic I was for thinking he would be fine 

that he would bounce back time and again, 

as though I had thought my father was ironman 

I was told to grieve in my own way and to let my tears fall  

but I can't; there's some pain that can't be illustrated 

the way it cuts my heart so deeply there's no tears left to cry, just silence 

I am sorry for all the unfilial words and thoughts I ever had towards my father

he was like a thunder I couldn't avoid and I was his heavy raincloud 

I wished things had turned out differently for you and for us 

but till the end I know I should be happy 

it doesn't hurt anymore for you. 

 19 January, 9:52am 

I find it so incredulously unfair - the way the world continues despite the great loss that someone experiences. The way I've lost a parent and my heart is broken into smithereens and I feel so sad and lost and everyone else in the world is so happy, and living their best lives and the thoughts in my head of my father now an urn of remains and ashes is still so clear in my head. I am beyond distraught. 

Why do people expect you to be okay in a month's time, or in their preset time? They've not had to grieve a loss quite this huge. 

People can say all kinds of things and give their condolences but they will never truly understand how you feel unless they have been in your position and I truly do not wish this upon anyone.

It's so unfair. 

I'm going to be 29

17 January, 2023 12:25pm 

Hi, it's been 8 years my diary. 

Did you know? 

My father passed on 2 weeks ago. 

I cried buckets and it hurts so much.

I thought about my father yesterday, and I wanted to write my feelings down.

I recalled I had a blog but didn't think much of it. Maybe it had ceased to exist, maybe in the 8 years I was away the page had shut down. But I came back to 328 diary entries of mine - all documented from 2013 - January 2015. 

I read each one of them and it brought back so much memories, though I mostly felt really hurt reading them, and apologetic and nostalgic and a little silly. 

It's strange how from a certain point of time onwards I became the present version of myself people know and identify with. I still denounce the idea of being vanilla, but I have become so much more mellow. I made new friends - many new friends - drifted apart from some people I used to spend a lot of time with and lost a few old friends. Reading my posts makes me miss them so much - and realised at that point of time when I was young and sad - all I needed was fatherly love - which I tried finding in all the wrong places, and in the wrong people and how I broke my own heart time and again.

I started going to church in 2013 - after many years away from church as a child - and I wrote about God a lot and how I was healing. I wrote about the friends I made and how happy I was to have them in my life. Though in some posts, my happiness felt more like cha-cha, two steps forward one step back. 

There were people whom if we have met at the right timing, perhaps the outcome would be different. But almost a decade on, I'm happy how things turned out for all of us. 

Reading back, I always loved to read and write. I've loved books before I even turned seven, now that I think of it - maybe I got it from my father. He was always watching the news and reading the papers.

I was always a mommy's girl and I wrote a lot about my parents being overly protective and worried about me. 

But what hurt me the most were the few posts I wrote about my father.

We were much closer in the past, but back in 2014 he was already starting to get very sick because of his diabetic condition. I wrote about caring for him and feeling helpless. 

Did you know? If I hadn't written down my feelings I would have forgotten those little incidents and conversations with my dad. I'm glad I did. I'm just sorry I stopped writing in my diary for such a long time. I guess I was happy and living my life. 

My heart hurts a lot. 

When my dad got sicker over the years, sometimes I would think of what I would write about the years I grew up with him - it's almost like a eulogy - so I wouldn't forget him.

I think I will start writing in my diary again. 

Dear Diary,

Do you think my father is in a better place now where he has both legs to walk and run and sprint? 

I hope he's not hurting anymore wherever he is. 

I want to only remember good and beautiful thoughts about him.