Thing My Dad Didn't Get To See

A bachelor degree.

I've wasted my life by choosing the bad choices. 

I gave up when I was on halfway my thesis in veterinary medicine because I thought I'll never be a good doctor, I just don't have the quality. 7 years of nothing if you asked me.

I have never a dull student, never repeated the same class, enrolled in a favorite school in town, never had serious problems in school, didn't get pregnant when in high school. I was a pretty much normal student. I even enrolled in a state university. 

But until now,

when all my peers are on their steady jobs, on their way to Ph.D., living their dream life overseas, on their second child. 

Hello me. Still trying to get my bachelor degree. Such a failure.

I'm so sad, Dad. I feel like I fail you. I disappoint you.

I know that everyone will have their own big break. In my case, not today. Not until your last breath.

You'll miss my graduation when I finally I will graduate this time. For real. No jokes. No funny business. Nothing. I'll graduate, Dad and you won't be here.

I'm sad. But I'll come out to the end of the tunnel and see the light again. I'll finish what I've started and I'll do my best.

Miracle

When my Dad lay unconsciously in the hospital bed, I kept praying for a miracle. I really wanted my Dad would wake up and be with us again, just like nothing happened. Only 24 hours after he was in a coma state, he died.

I shake my head wanted it was untrue. Another part of my brain told me, he was just sleeping peacefully. 

But no.

He died.

I don't know what to believe anymore, 

Is a miracle real? 

I never experienced a miracle before, maybe I have but I'm too ignorant to know what a miracle really is. 

But today, I witnessed a miracle, not happened to me but to someone else.

I have been following the news about Thai Rescue mission of twelve boys and their coach that have been trapped in a cave in Thailand. They have been stranded for 10 days before British divers found them well and alive inside the cave, without any foods. They've been survived only with meditation and water retrieved from cave rocks. The news said that rescued the boys have many challenges. It's possible but really difficult. The cave was cold, narrow, muddy, and has a low level of oxygen. One of the rescuers who was part of Thai Navy SEALS died on the mission. Even the professional diver could die, and the kids have zero experience of cave diving. 

A miracle happened.

All boys, coach, rescue teams that involved in the mission were out safely.

Every time I read the news I can barely hold my tears. It's really heart-warming, seeing the people on one frequency to save the boys lives was really touching. 

Faith in a miracle has restored.

In my case, maybe my Dad died is really what's good for me, for the family. It's really hard, letting go of someone who really loved. But I'm surviving.

As long as there is hope, a miracle would show up in a different form. Just maybe not as my expectation. 

First thing first, I have to let go.

Grief

When I lost my grandmother, I was too small to remember. I was too small to have deep memories with her. She had a stroke. All I can remember that she always accompanied me at home when I was alone. She couldn't talk nor walk. She always sat on the green sofa.
Grandpa also left when I was just turned 3 years old. I didn't remember much, except his strong smell of cigarette.
I'm a big girl now, has one daughter and a husband, and I lost my Dad.
Now I know the feeling of grief. My mom and I would talk about Dad every day, his past memories with us. 

Are you watching us from up there, Dad?

We wouldn't stop talking about Dad. When I sneezed while driving, it would remind Mom so much about Dad because on his counted days he sneezed so much while driving. We wouldn't stop telling stories about Dad, just not yet.
I have so many stories about my Dad because we were so close. I have my dad's face, when you met us, you would have known that we were related. We were so much alike. I also inherited Dad's character, we both had strong opinions about certain things but remained calm if anyone bad mouthing about us, we just didn't show how hurt was us even deep down we hurt so much.

Dad loved swimming.

When I was a kid, he would take the whole family to swim, every Sunday. I even allowed to invite my friend slash cousin to join our Sunday ritual. Then I grew up, I've gotten less interested in swimming with Dad. I always refused if Dad asked me to join him. He said, the water in the swimming pool was blessed and would make your face ten years younger; also it would make your heart strong. But I remained ignorant, I declined my Dad's proposal.

But,
His last seven days. When my daughter had her holiday, also I was free. I decided to spend the rest of holiday in Solo.
Dad still insisted on me to join him in the swimming pool.

Finally, I accepted my Dad's invitation. We swam twice that week.

In his last days. We went swimming. 

I got 10 round, Dad also had 10 round.

Dad and his girls.

He was strong.

On his last seven days, I slept with Dad, in front of the TV. He always woke up in the middle of the night and had trouble sleeping. I didn't ask anything because I knew he had been had sleep apnea for years and always refused when I asked him to check his disorder to sleep clinic. Yes, he hated hospital.

I always reminded him to take blood pressure medicine regularly, but he refused. Yes, he also hated medicine.

He had flu, and the only medicine he took was Vick's inhaler if that's counted as medicine.

Dad was very stubborn about certain things.

He would make us listen to him because he knew better.

But Dad, you were wrong, and I was wrong.

Your heart wasn't strong enough. You collapsed way too fast. Without warnings.

It's so hard living without you. I have to continue your fight because I'm the first born when you know. I am not ready just yet.

We had so many plans, but you weren't here. We were in a long distance relationship know, in a different universe. 
Is this what so-called the feeling of grief?
I read so many articles about it, there were so many stages of grief. But fuck the stages. It's just so hard, I just can't remember which stage I am in...