A year had passed

One year ago, yesterday - my abah passed away.

I've been dreading to write about this since the beginning of this month simply bcos I dont know what to write but I guess the harder task in doing so would be hiding the pain and keeping the tears from flowing freely. But I dont want the day to go unnotice either. So the opportunity is now, when other family members are busy watching tv and too busy to notice (this wife and mother of two) is trying to keep her emotion in check. Whilst it (relatively) easier for me to remember the date of my father's passing by the months that had lapsed, my mother on the other hand is remembering it by each passing day; religiously marking it in her calendar. In which ever way, we all remember him and each one of us grieve differently.

But remember him ... we will always do.

I choose to remember my father in my passion for reading. For he was the driving force (and teacher) in me learning to read in the first place. So for every good book that I ever have the pleasure to read and for every rotten book that came across my way, I owe the pleasure and agony of it all to my dearest abah. And thanks to him, I'll be using this gift for a long, long time and hopefully ignite the same passion to his and my grandchildren.

To me this will be a perfect (if I may borrow a quote from the movie Love Happens) 'recognition not only for a person who had died, but a recognition for a person who had lived'.

Love and miss you abah.