It’s been 21 years since I celebrated Father’s Day with my dad. I remember a time when the day would be sad, when I wished he were still here so I could celebrate with him. These days, I think about him and reflect on memories.
There are so many things that I wish I had. Smartphones didn’t exist twenty years ago, so I don’t have any photos or videos of my dad that I can see on my phone. I’m at a point now where I struggle to remember the sound of his voice. 🥹
It’s wild to think that there’ll be a time when I’ve lived longer without my father than I did with him. I’m not there yet, but it’s getting close.
I feel like two eras defined my life: the period when my dad was alive, and the period after he passed. I’ve grown so much since he passed; I often wonder what he would think about the current period that includes me living in the country of his birth.
I’m pretty sure he’d question a lot of the choices I’ve made, but I also think that he would trust my judgement and support me regardless of what he thought. 🩵