Silence

Mute. Numb, yet sore.

Words will never be able to share this. So there has been silence.

So there will be silence.

In my head. In my heart.

In his room.

His room, now a sanctuary. Filled with memories… and his absence.

I know it. I have seen it.

I have seen him.

And still there is this little voice in my head, constantly sobbingly denying reality.

He’s gone.

My eyes well up again. The child in me keeps on disclaiming.

How to continue now?

I have been moody. I have let the rest of the family know. We all suffer. We all suffer differently.

How to say goodbye?

How to say goodbye when words fail me?

His death was no surprise. He had suffered for such a long time. A decade. Even longer.

He has been strong for so long, yet unable to recognize his amazing fortitude. A lifetime.

I feel so small and lonely without him. Even though he had dissociated himself little by little already before. And I have missed him already before.

But I never stopped loving him. And I never will.

He has been my hero. And I have been his gift. The living impossibility. Now, I am his legacy. As long as I live, he will not be forgotten.

He, who gave me life, who gave me care and love. He, who explained and meant the world to me. He, who was so gifted and kind, calm and wise. My guardian.

We shared so much, yet he never wanted me to share his burden. But music and jokes we shared enthusiastically.

I miss his lies, telling me that everything was fine, everything was going to be just fine. We hugged and lived this lie for a short moment.

I miss his eyes and his voice.

I miss you, dad. Everything you were.

And now, for my son and myself, all the good things you were to me, I wish to be.

Because even now that you are gone, you still inspire me.

Whatever the future holds for me, I strive to make you proud.

Because I am so proud that I could call you my dad.

 

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