GRIEF

I am compelled to write about grief, as my journey with it began eight years after my Beloved Father’s passing, when his ashes were finally laid to rest.

When my father was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, I had already begun mentally preparing myself for the inevitable goodbye.

I concealed my grief for him, clinging to the belief that one day, God would relieve him of his suffering.

Whenever Dad had to go to the clinic, he had to sign a form granting permission for any new trial treatments. It always felt like he was signing away his very existence.

The bond I shared with my Father was so strong that it felt like he was my child. I would do anything to shield him from harm and ensure his safety.

Despite leaving England in 2006 for early retirement in his newly constructed home in Dominica, I maintained a strong connection with him and always feared for his safety.

I chose to remain a single woman without children because I struggled to take care of myself mentally.

I am grateful to the Almighty for blessing me with the opportunity to care for my father for two years and three months.

Today, everything has flooded back to me as his last request was granted a week ago — to have his ashes laid to rest on the very soil where he took his first breath.

I find solace in remembering him as he was, even though I wasn’t present for his final moments or the burial of his ashes.

My Father was my everything — a man of strength and kindness, integrity and devotion, a beacon of righteousness in my life.

He remained loyal to his family, steering clear of any bad habits like smoking, drinking, and gambling.

He found more comfort in our company than in socialising with friends. He was a devoted family man…

There is nothing I can say about my dad that I don’t like because he made it funny even when he started moaning about stuff.

What stands out the most about him is his captivating presence, soothing voice, infectious smile, and invaluable guidance and wisdom.

As soon as he entered a room, it was as if a beacon of light had been switched on, illuminating even the darkest corners. He had a way of brightening up the gloomiest of moments.

He was always my champion, standing up for me and urging me to embrace my true self. With his support, I felt like the most radiant being in existence.

The unnecessary suffering he endured fuelled my hatred towards the oncologists. It seemed like all they cared about were the results, treating everyone like experiments without regard for their lives.

Without the support of the Macmillan nurses, my faith in the system would have completely crumbled.

He was always so positive and kind. He would crack jokes, tell stories, and make everyone feel at ease. The nurses often went out of their way to ensure he was comfortable and well taken care of.

Dad’s positive attitude and infectious smile brightened the entire ward. Patients would often comment on how much they enjoyed having him around and how his presence made their stay in the hospital a little bit easier.

Even on his toughest days, Dad would still find a way to make the nurses laugh and lift their spirits. He truly had a gift for bringing joy to those around him, and the nurses were grateful to have him as a patient on their ward.

Dad’s time in the hospital may have been difficult, but he made the most of it by spreading happiness and positivity wherever he went. The nurses will never forget him as the favourite patient on their ward, and they will cherish the memories of his infectious smile and kind heart.

If I wrote a letter to my father, it would go something like this…

My Beloved Father, you sacrificed so much to care for and shield us. Because of you, we never went hungry or lacked clothing. Playing games with us brought you joy, and we eagerly awaited your return from work each day.

I can still picture you strolling down the alley on your way to work. We would always send you off with a wave. Your collection of nicknames for everyone is etched in my memory.

I will forever cherish the moments we shared, just the two of us, engaging in deep conversations that touched our hearts. We would drift off to sleep and wake up before our mother returned, creating a special bond.

If I had known our time together was limited, I would have cherished the opportunity to write your biography for you.

You were the first man I ever knew, the most incredible man I have ever met, and I am sure that I will never encounter anyone quite like you again in my lifetime.

Today, I am upholding a tradition by dedicating nine published books to your memory, and I vow to keep writing until my last breath.

My love for you transcends language, and you will forever be by my side.

Birdie