A Birthday Letter To My Daddy Living In Heaven

July 26, 2015 Unknown 1 Comments

His birthdays are always fun. The hustle and bustle of preparing for his birthdays are unforgettable. The wahala of picking out a dress from my mums shop. The stress of carrying crates of drinks and wine. The mouth ache from receiving calls to confirm the house/hall address and time. The annoyance that comes with greeting family and his friends that I feel indifferently about. Most of which I can't remember their names. The awkward glances thrown across the hall from guests. Call me crazy but I'm certain most of the contents of their conversations are about my family.
Now the party has started and my dad is forcing me to dance, sending me on endless errands, raising his voice when I forget to do something and making me run around. Making me frustrated. I think running on errands should be part of the Olympics. He always ignores the fact that I have guests and need to spend time with them. Even with all these, I still try to find time to have fun.
The party is over. The real work begins. Washing dishes, clearing tables, packing leftovers for the dogs, sweeping the compound, keeping the coolers back in the store, cleaning the gutters, washing the used pots, the list is endless. This is the part where I'm totally infuriated. "Why can't he just get a catering service to do this?", I ask myself.  I'm not cut out for this kind of stress.

That was last year.

Tomorrow is his birthday but this time it's different. No noise. No cooking. No party. No work. No one to celebrate. Nothing. He's dead. In 19 years I've never had a quiet 27th of July. It sure is quite. Too quiet. I miss him. Now he's not here, I want the stress. I want to be infuriated. I want to be stressed. But I can't. This is unbearable. I'm not sure how long I can hang on. I wish we were throwing a party.

Daddy, wherever you are, I'm sure its heaven. I just want you to know that I'm going to celebrate you every year for as long as I live. I'm never going to stop loving or thinking about you. I'll always be a  daddy's girl.

Your baby loves you.

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1 comment:

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