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.

Posted on by shirindawna · 3 Comments

baba.

i have been racking my brain trying to think of the appropriate way to describe my dad, but no words or descriptions seem to do him justice.

he provided me with unconditional love, with protection, and the space to explore who i am and what i wanted to do with my life at my own pace.

he was truly my biggest fan.

my father was the most generous man i had ever met. besides the gift of unconditional love, he gave me the ultimate gift: confidence.

of all the gifts i have received, i have been most honored by this one. it is the greatest gift to ever give another person, to believe in them.

when i succeeded he stood back and took no credit, and when i failed he was by my side. what more could a child ask?

my baba taught me a lot, the most important thing being how to love. unconditionally.

he never missed an opportunity to tell me how much he loved me. in fact, every time we spoke or saw each other it was the first thing he said.

it feels nice to know that my baba and i didn’t leave a thing unsaid. we constantly told each other how lucky we were.

i was up late last night reading our old emails to each other and feeling comforted by the unabashed love in his messages.

my favorite one ended with: love is everything.

even though my dad and i said i love you probably every other sentence, i would give anything to hear him say it one more time.

in honor of my dad & this legacy of love, as you go about your day take the time to tell those who are important to you how much you love them and what they mean to you. and do it everyday, every chance you get. i can’t think of a better way to keep his memory alive.

…because i am sure he’s listening and because it was one of our favorite things to say to each other i’d like to borrow shakespeare’s words to remind my dad that i love him ‘dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty.’