I’ve read a lot of novels growing up and I hardly remember any of the stories now. My life’s own stories have gradually blurred out the ones that made my life vibrant as a teenager. But I do remember special lines from specific books…lines that were too strong to not be felt, remembered and recollected. One such line is this one from Fault in Our Stars by John Green: That’s the thing about pain. It demands to be felt. I can Google and give you the context of the line in the novel or maybe you can go do it for yourself, but think about it. Pain, grief, heartbreak…everything soul-shattering ought to be truly felt for you to even imagine moving past them.
I write this post with a lot of sorrow and a heavy heart. The word “friendship” has taken so many meanings for me over the years and through all of them, all the betrayals, hugs, happy moments and sad ones, there’s one person that has been a constant. She’s this particular friend I’ve had for over two decades of my life.
Today, she lost her dad. And I don’t know what to feel or what to say to make her feel better. Growing up, I’ve had an older dad and I realised quite early on in life that my dad is not as young, energetic, patient or ‘fun’ as the dads of my friends. He had done his share of ‘Dad duties’ already for both my elder siblings and by the time it was time for him to do all the same things for a third time, he was done. I could sense the impatience and irritation he would feel every time there was a birthday party I wanted to go to, or every time he had to go pick me from an extra class or tuitions. It was kind of him to never complain and do the deed despite the annoyance, boredom and repetitive nature but the self and socially aware side of me could sense his discontent, and that’s why I shaped myself to become a self-sufficient, self-reliant person, so much so that I can be framed for murder and need desperate help to prove my innocence but would still think twice before dialling my Dad’s number. And this comes from a place of concern for him because I don’t want to unnecessarily bother him or my mom, who’re both now in their second innings. But that’s my story. Not every child grows up feeling this disconnect from their parents.
This particular friend of mine had quite the opposite rapport with her dad. He was young, charming, kind, loving, always up for fun, and just the coolest dad around me. It wasn’t just her who enjoyed his lively presence, me and another friend of ours would always deeply admire how he was always just the right dad. The perfect dad.
He had an accident with the stairs at home yesterday and finally gave up on life this morning. I had no idea how to console my friend. I don’t think I did a very good job at being there for her either, because she’s there alone now, with her mom, trying to figure out life in this father-less world, making his death certificate, bringing him home, getting stuff ready for the last rites, while I sit here in my university hostel and simply write and wonder about how she’s doing it all. I’ve never felt more helpless in friendship.
The biggest demerit of adulthood is seeing your parents enter their second childhood and finally to lose them to death. Here we are, just in our mid-twenties and she’s already dealing with this great loss. She deserved at least a few more years with her father, she’s too young to take on the responsibilities of the house. Being the eldest child, my friend would now have to be in-charge and accountable for everyone left behind. I cannot even imagine the feeling she now has of not having even the luxury of time to grieve her dad’s loss.
And then to think of how fragile and unpredictable life is. I’ve always lived with the big gloomy cloud of “what if my dad is no more?” looming over me and just like that 25 years of my life have passed. With God’s grace my Dad hasn’t dealt with anything major so far and I’m breathing fine everyday, but to imagine that this friend who knew her dad was young enough to live atleast another decade lost his life randomly like that is heart-breaking. Is it even okay for us to expect anything from life if there’s no guarantee of life itself?
She’s a strong girl and has dealt with multiple crisis situations like this in the past but I know this is the biggest of them all because she’s broken now. The sound of her breaking down on the phone this morning is still echoing in my ears. And the fact that I can’t do anything to make her feel better. Does it mean I’m an unworthy friend if I can’t even book a flight and go be with her in these times of crisis? I don’t know. There’s way too much to figure out if I indeed go and sit on that homebound flight. Adulting is hard, to say the least. And life? It’s plain cruel at this point.
But then again, pain demands to be felt. I cannot make her pain go away without her taking its burden for some time. I can only send her my prayers. And all my prayers are with her and her family today. May God give them the strength to overcome this huge loss! May God keep them sane and hopeful, despite it all. And as for Uncle, he has been the most loving person I know and I hope he finds peace in heaven, knowing that his family will be well-provided for in his absence. Amen 🙏🏻
