Posted on by shirindawna

life & death.

one year after losing my baba, it really is a matter of life & death. as i prepare to bring my first little into the world, i am missing my dad more than ever.

in his last few months, he promised me he would stick around to meet his grand babies. and the thing is, i know he’s keeping his word. i feel him with me and around me more than ever before…it may sound absurd, but the feeling of love, peace, and protection seems to have amplified since discovering i am fulfilling not only my greatest wish, but my dad’s as well.

before i ever knew i was pregnant i had dreams of my dad telling me how thrilled he was to finally be a grandpop. dreams that were hilarious to me at the time because i had no idea they were my reality…

i don’t believe in coincidences and i firmly believe that there is some divine intervention at work here. the universe always keeps a balance. i had an inkling that having my own child would somehow reconnect me with my dad, i just never knew how comforting or peaceful it would be.

he taught me to look up when things got tough. see the sky, drink in the world, work hard, play hard and believe that who you are is good enough. if someone doesn’t like it – then that’s their malfunction. on this first anniversary of my dad’s passing, i remember, with gratitude, my dad.

he loved us with the fiercest devotion i’ve ever witnessed. unconditional love, for life and beyond. i knew that then, and i feel it now.

as an adult, when i reflect on the people and places that make up my memories, i know that his was the single greatest influence on me. i have his eyes, his nose, his lips, and his ability to love, but that’s not what i mean…

he introduced me to art in all its forms. from beethoven’s 9th to the writings of shakespeare and poe; to the rugged majesty of athletes, as well as the magic of the theatre…no medium escaped his interest.

my dad stayed curious. he got older, but his spirit never did. it lit up a room until his dying day. his example is a legacy i aspire to.

i miss you everyday, dad.

while celebrating the life of the person i loved most, i am beyond happy to welcome a new addition to our family. it may not be father’s day to the whole world, but it is for me…a day of remembrance and gratefulness.

i can’t wait to shower my little sweet pea with the unconditional love that you provided me.

Posted on by shirindawna

forever.

my first father’s day without baba isn’t sad. it’s somehow uplifting. and full of possibility. and light. and hope.

it was an interesting week. i found myself in the emergency room, alone. and reached for my phone over and over again to call my dad. he was always my ‘go-to,’ my hero, my savior, my mentor…my dad, my baba. living without his physical presence has been an interesting ride. one that’s made me stronger. and somehow softer too.

my heart swelled today when someone i don’t know very well (but i’d like to 😉 ) called to check on me and make sure i was doing okay. it’s little things that show a person’s character. and i’m thankful for all the characters in my life.

i’m fortunate that for 31.5 years i had the best baba i could’ve ever dreamt up (that’s saying A LOT, i have quite the imagination). and while my heart aches when i think about him not being able to walk me down the aisle when i get married or my children not getting to meet the man who made me into the person i am today – i am utterly grateful for the time i got to spend with him. baba’s death is a blow that i am still recovering from almost a year later. while visiting my dad at his final resting place today, i shed some (read: many) tears…and it was cleansing. coming up on a year of living without him is surreal.

it’s funny how it takes absence to focus the lens of eternity on a life. i can tell you that with every passing day that hindsight becomes clearer; the guy offering me the delicious tomatoes from his greenhouse as he toiled in the backyard and the man that made me cry by gushing over how proud he was of me at the most inopportune moments will always hold the most precious of places in my heart.

throughout this heartbreaking year, there were times when i felt so alone…i took to journaling how i felt to be able to process my emotions and thoughts. while my pain and feelings flowed onto the page, i found my words directed from my journal to my father. i was basically giving him an update on what was happening. letters to my dad.

my heart felt better after that. in some unexplainable way, i felt his presence. i think those moments taught me that while he isn’t physically on earth to help me deal with life’s ups and downs, his spirit is still here, watching over me.

it is thought that when we lose someone to death, we lose that person forever. but i’ve opened my mind to keep cultivating the relationship, even after death, because the people we love and who hold our hearts will always be with us.

if my dad taught me anything, it was: love is everything. it is such a powerful emotion. love doesn’t die when someone does; and vice-versa, our love for them doesn’t end just because they aren’t there physically. death ends a life, not a relationship.

my brother and i also grow closer, while also teaching each other about strength, family bonds and healing…sometimes, my brother and i remark, “i wish daddy got to see this.” we talk about how our dad would have been so happy to be with us on certain days. but we also knew that he IS happy and he IS there on those days… it’s something i feel now more than ever. by recognizing he is still with us no matter what, we learn to honor him. we honor his memory by living the happy lives we know he would have wanted for us. by keeping him in mind (and always in heart), i feel like he is looking out for us everyday.

even though i can’t feel him squeeze me as i walk through his front door, i feel him in my heart. and the truth is, proximity doesn’t indicate closeness.

happy dad’s day, baba.
i know you’re with me forever.

Posted on by shirindawna

lesser of two evils?

my dad died last year after a three year battle with cancer.

he bounced back from two major surgeries only to watch it come back. and ultimately, take over his body.

he died on a wednesday morning in a big bed less than an hour after i said my final goodbye to him. my brother was at his side.

i hear people discuss which is preferred: to lose a loved one unexpectedly, in a suddenly your life is very different moment…not giving you a chance to say goodbye. or i’m sorry. or i’ll be seeing you…

or is it less painful to watch your loved one slowly fade from this life to the next, often in pain, sometimes great pain, breaking your heart over and over? yes, it’s painful…but it’s a chance to say goodbye.

i’ve had that debate myself and i never come to any conclusive decision…what’s easier? which hurts less? i finally came to the conclusion that i had a little bit of both. i knew my dad had cancer for 3 years…and for 3 years, we managed it. he lived with it. we changed his diet. we changed his lifestyle. we bickered. we took a cruise. we debated. we had dance parties. we learned together. most of all, we loved.

3 years of fighting…and a miraculous recovery from a terribly invasive surgery only to find that 6 months later the cancer was back and stronger than ever before. the doctors all said the cancer was going to take his life. they suggested hospice. we thought they were wrong.

didn’t they know how strong my dad was?
didn’t they know how long we’d been fighting this battle already?
didn’t they know about how he was a miracle and nothing could beat him?

his decline was rapid (something that is bittersweet). within a couple months of this news, he was gone.

i can’t pretend i didn’t feel the balance of the universe shift as i watched my brother help change my dad’s diaper. or from helping lift him out of bed in his final days.

i could see him fading, but after 3 years i was still holding on to a modicum of hope that he would miraculously recover. leading up to the moment he took his last breath. even though we knew it was coming, it felt like he’d been taken in an instant, a tragedy unforeseen, unpredicted. and certainly, i was unprepared.

lesser of two evils? i can’t speak on that because i don’t believe there’s a good way to lose someone you love.

i do believe the time together changed us for the better. it made us more aware of each moment we have with the people in our lives.

my dad always saw the possibilities in every challenge. he was (overly) optimistic and valued love over all else. i see these traits in myself.

in the end, when cancer stripped my baba of his health, these ideals were something it could not take, something so strong that they outlived even him.

Posted on by shirindawna

a year of firsts.

nothing ever feels the way you imagine it will. my first birthday without my baba isn’t breaking my heart the way it has been over the last couple weeks. i miss him, but there is a sense of calm that surrounds me. a peace i had been hoping for and wasn’t expecting. now that it’s here, i’m not sure what to do with it.

at a glance, i have nothing to complain about. sitting on a patio in maui with the ocean in the distance and a sweet boyfriend snoozing away in the king size bed in our hotel room. life has been good to me. i am fortunate. and i’m grateful for everything i have. and even though i feel at peace with my dad not being around, the little girl in me still wants to call him and tell him how pretty it is here. and how much i miss him. and how i wish i could’ve been with him when he explored kauai several years back.

my dad and i always planned to come to hawaii together. maybe that’s why i felt compelled to celebrate my birthday here. it just felt right.

but here’s a little secret: running away to maui doesn’t make you forget that your dad isn’t around to celebrate your birthday. i would be lying if i said it didn’t soften the blow though. i mean, if it’s going to suck either way it may as well suck in a tropical paradise.

i feel a sense of obligation to my dad and his memory to strengthen family bonds. perhaps that is why i felt it was so important to have my boyfriend’s parents here with us? i know my dad would’ve wanted it that way. he had such admiration and regard for these people he has never even met. that’s baba though. he makes up his mind about certain ideals and blindly follows them, not to say his admiration is unwarranted, but it always amused me that the details or circumstances surrounding a situation didn’t phase him as much as the final outcome. maybe that’s why he was able to love so unconditionally. and with such pure intent. i wish i had the courage and ability to surrender myself so completely to love in the same way. that type of love may only exist from a parent to a child and perhaps that is why i haven’t experienced it…someday.

i have many things to celebrate today: the love of a good man, a wonderful brother, and great friends. and i get to celebrate my birthday in hawaii.

it isn’t a perfect picture, but there are a lot of perfect pieces.

Posted on by shirindawna · 2 Comments

pieces of baba.

it’s been 3 weeks.
2 million memories.
and 1 day since my dear sweet baba became an angel.

using the past tense to talk about my baba comes almost naturally now.

he loved playing bridge.
he was an engineer.
he adored my brother and me (mostly me).

“my dad died” rolls off of my tongue in a way that surprises me every time i hear it…

i wish i could say things have gotten easier. people certainly expect them to…

i think about him each minute. every single day. it’s hard. it’s sad. it’s weird. it’s still surreal.

the pain is still new, fresh…raw. his death is still where my thoughts default when nothing else is distracting me. i think about him every time someone mentions their father in conversation. i think about him every time someone asks about my family…or mentions theirs.

at a friend’s wedding several weeks ago (right before my own dad passed), i watched her dance with her dad for a total of 2 seconds before i was overcome with emotion…knowing i wouldn’t ever share that special moment with my baba was devastating. and for a moment, i crumbled.

in just a few weeks i have become an expert at juggling my emotions. i am (usually) able to maintain my composure and get through each day, even though i know something too big for words is missing. and sometimes, before i even see it coming, grief shows up and changes everything.

sometimes i think about him and i’m suddenly grinning from ear to ear, but unable to say a word. it’s because i can hear my four-year-old self saying, “baaabaaaa” through uncontrollable giggles while i struggle to hoist myself up his small 65 inch frame that seemed larger than life to me…

i watch a girl dancing on her dad’s feet in a commercial and am transported back to days when i used to do the same.
recently, i watched my cousin climb up my brother’s legs and then flip herself over and a sob caught in my throat as i recalled doing the exact same thing with my dad and i think about how i want my future husband to do this with our children.

…my dad’s brother has the cutest little girls ever and i LOVE LOVE LOVE playing with them, watching them bounce around the room, twirling in place, jumping all over the couches, but there are moments when my grief grabs hold of me and all i can think about is how i will have kids someday…and when that someday comes my little ones won’t ever get to meet my dad.

my dad loved kids and would dreamily ask me when i might be ready to start a family of my own. it haunts me when i think of the fact that my littles won’t ever know him. i cannot imagine that they won’t get to read books on his lap, or go to the park with him, or cuddle up with him, or watch his face light up when they walk through the door…my dad was amazing and the most fantastic source of love…i know i can pass on his memory and his legacy, but there will still be something missing. something so huge that i can’t fathom it most days.

the truth is that there are some things, no matter how much we heal, grow, and accept, that are just not fair. i know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my dad’s love, which he freely showered on my brother and me, would have truly shined in the lives of my children.

most of the time, the thoughts are fleeting, coming and going throughout the day. it has become a part of my daily routine.

usually, it doesn’t upset me because the thoughts bring a smile, but there are those that bring a bit of pain. these are the times when i’m hit more intensely…these moments always catch me off guard. and they hit HARD.

it makes me wonder when i’ll have a normal sense of normal again. does that happen? is my ‘normal’ forever changed?

it’s a tough balance because i hate feeling like i am ‘the girl whose dad died,’ but i am…that’s me. my dad, my rock, my first love – is gone.

the saddest are the times when I’m sharing a memory and realize the person with whom i’m speaking just isn’t getting it. they never knew my baba, so they’re having a hard time picturing this almost-mythical figure i’m gushing about…

for many, he’s simply a collection of fragmented stories and memories of a little girl. how can i even come close to adequately explaining him? there are days when it absolutely crushes me to remember the truth: i can’t.

a person is so much more than their occupation, their likes and dislikes, or their talents. it’s about the moments you share with them. how they could draw people in. how their presence could fill a room.

the unconditional love.
the pride.
the laughs.
the embraces.

it’s all of the intangible little things you can’t put your finger on.

it’s the life that made that person special.

there are people now in my life that never knew him. i wish they could have. maybe then, it would be easier for them to grasp what i’m missing. and why after 3 weeks i’m still not ready to return to work, to my old routine, to being around strangers.

don’t get me wrong, i still love my life…and yet there are moments when i break down crying, and there are times when i completely break down and want to sleep away the next few months and wake up feeling some semblance of ‘normal.’

i still pick up my phone to call him. i still have the urge to finish whatever task i’m working on so that i can go visit him. i still want to ask his advice on things…

and that’s when i remember.

and that’s when i fall apart.
into pieces.

pieces of me…

…missing all the pieces that made up my baba.