Battling to sleep.
Went out on to the balcony.
I see you, Daddy!
Goodnight...I love you
I still find it hard to use the words “passed away” when speaking about my dad. Instead, I refer to it by the date it happened or say “when my dad left”.
The most challenging question to answer these days is, “How are you doing/feeling?”
I wondered - in our culture, especially - when faced with death, after the funeral and 12-day prayer...does one start to find acceptance and peace?
The answer: There is no deadline when one will start to feel “normal”.
Tomorrow marks 3 weeks. My heart feels heavy and empty at the same. It’s confusing & painful. While death itself is difficult, I have learned that losing a parent is like losing a part of you.
Those who were close to my dad have reached out to me and shared how he openly expressed how proud he was of me. Regardless of my age, that will always be music to my ears. 🥰
This photo was taken about 13 years ago just before returning to my crazy adventure in South Korea. I’ve been told that my dad was especially proud of how independent I was.
Despite that, I know that deep down I was always “Daddy’s Girl” and this photo reminds me of that. 💕
I watched Darmesh gracefully place your ashes into the water this morning. You finally get to travel the world!
I told Mummy that you’re on your way to me. ❤️
Scrolling through my gallery last night, I found a treasure of photos & videos from my trips to East London. They were mostly of you and Benjamin! He misses you and apparently went to all the rooms looking for you.
Daddy, we’re making a memory book so that we can look back on all your stories for years to come. Your friends and work associates are sharing their special moments with you.
My days are filled with waves of emotions. I know it will get better, but I’m also not going to rush this process. I have peace in my heart because I have zero regrets. I never held back in expressing my love and gratitude for you.
I love you.
My Dad wasn't only my hero. He was my SUPERhero.
In my mind, he was immortal.
He could fight anything - even cancer, round 1.
Daddy, it would take a long time to list all the lessons I’ve learned from you. But here are a few...
Treat everyone with respect - whether they’re a CEO or a street sweeper.
Give openly without expecting anything in return.
Life will throw you curveballs. Learn from them and try to do better next time.
Be independent. Figure it out on your own.
Rising with the sun is a sacred time.
Daddy, for the past 72 hours I’ve been talking about you in the past tense.
My Dad loved music.
My Dad used to watch that show.
My Dad was so generous.
It feels unnatural to speak about you in the past tense.
What cannot be past tense is my LOVE for you. I will always love you, Daddy. You have my respect and admiration and I promise I will keep saying it with pride: ”I’m Barry Makhan’s daughter.”
They say that daughters often choose husbands with the same qualities as their father. I just wish you could have spent more time with Tom. He is kind and gives unconditionally - just like you.
And do you remember at our wedding you said, ”Tom, look after my child.”
He is, Daddy! You’d be proud of what a humble person I chose as my partner.
You lived humbly and quietly - the same manner in which you left. No drama or fuss.
Mummy, I’ve told you before. If I could be half the wife you are, I’d consider myself pretty awesome. You will always be Daddy’s angel.
Bhai (Darmesh) also known as my Dad no2. We see Daddy in you. Your walk, your talk, your expressions. Your kindness, your love for people.
Daddy, Mummy, Bhai - I once captioned our family photo: “The Awesome Foursome.” That is us!
I love you with all my heart.
Always and forever.
From across the ocean,