Ode to my Dad

I just don't know how to tell people how close we were and it's getting to me really bad.

I just don't know if I can get through this.

I went through the motions of talking with my close frenz, and talking about a lot of stuff.

I swear I could hear myself talking but it wasn't really me. There was a distance between my actions and my brain, as if I was in someone else's movie.

Then I decided to call shirls. We talked for a short while and I then told her about my emotions. She told me that I didn't have to hide it and that it might be difficult, blah blah blah. And then it happened, the tears started to flow out of my gut amidst noises whose volume I don't remember nor did I care. It was when I said to her that I wanted other people to know what it was like to grow up with such a family. And yet my father, he could provide seamlessly for this family and yet teach us little lessons about life with his hokkien, mandarin and malay mixture.

Those words took about a millennium to come out, they were interspersed with tears. It felt good. My father had been ill for the past 2 years plus and during that time I had experienced a great deal of sadness but no tears, now they were flowing.

I did not get a chance to speak at my father's memorial service but it was a important and powerful experience.

The tears flowed easily at the cremation The biggest impact happened at the point of the coffin entering the oven. I felt the presence of my father. The feelings over-whelmed me and caused me a grief I cannot cope. I was over whelmed immensely at this point

I read somewhere before that Men tend to have an easier time in connecting their grief with their action due to many reasons one of which is that men have a harder time in connecting their emotions with words. Women on the other hand have great skill in this arena and are usually more drawn to connecting their pain, tears, and grief on a verbal level to their most intimate friends and family. It needs to be said that each person's grief is unique to them and by separating men and women we are in dangerous territory. There are general differences in the way men and women grieve but there are probably more individual differences.

Today, 7 days after his death, I continued trudging on this path, they called living ,lost for direction but only with a sole purpose of providing for my family. I had the opportunity to pen something down during the wake. A short prose but looking for an ending.

A Father's touch,A grieving son,
You're greatly missed.
An empty house, An empty chair,
A father's love no longer there.
A broken heart, Tears filled eyes,
Another soul to fill the sky.

Many memories in my mind,
Some I laughed, Some I cried.
The times we shared,
The laughs we had,
Things I missed when I think of you Dad.
Realizing that's all I have to hold on too,
Only memories, Of what once was you.

Missing your laughter that I will never again hear.
That is the reality that fills me with so much fear.
No more smile on your face,
No more warmth of your embrace.

The last hug that was never to be,
The last goodbye spoken 3 weeks ago
The final "goodbye" uttered, leaves me with one last wish...

To have you, Dad, here today,
Never ever to leave your son this way.

Death for one ought not mean death for two.
We cannot die of grief unless we will it to be so.
Love requires us to love life as still,
Lest love be less than life and death are due.

but i dunno how to plug the tears from flowing.

UPDATE
Each time i read this, i tear uncontrollably...