This past Sunday for the first time in East London, our mandir (temple) carried out a “pitru pooja” (prayer for ancestors). 🪔
To me, ancestors were always my great grandparents and grandparents who passed when I was much younger.
I never thought of my Dad as one of our ancestors - until now.
I followed along virtually with our Guruji (priest) as I made an offering to Vishnu Bhagwan. It took about 1.5 hours and I honoured all our family members who’ve left us, especially those of this year.
2021 has been brutal.
Seven months later, the pain of losing a parent is still crippling. That my mum, brother and I haven’t been able to grieve together is harder than I could have imagined. 😢
The last “proper” phone conversation with my Dad was on Diwali morning last year.
I held back my tears as I noticed his speech had already changed and he was slurring a bit. I never shared this with anyone, because it’s almost like I didn’t want to speak it into existence.
I sent photos to him of my Diwali decor and he told me on the phone: “everything looks so smart”. I always beamed with pride with compliments from him. 🥰
Yes. My Dad is now my guardian angel. I speak to him daily. I still turn to him for guidance, but the truth is that my heart still pains. 💔
It certainly doesn’t get easier - it’s something we just have to learn to live with.
I feel like while we speak about death and grieving, we don’t openly speak about how everything changes after a loved one passes.
How the family who is left behind has to pick up the pieces, create a new sense of normalcy. Shopping, cooking & sleeping habits all change.
Trying to move on…minus the king of our castle.
In my eulogy, I wrote: “my Dad wasn’t only my hero, he was my superhero”.
Even as an adult, to me - there was nothing that our Dad couldn’t do. When it came to his family, he made everything possible.
Grateful & honoured to be his daughter. 😇