no title... from my journal

It has been a week and a year ago that papa passed away, silently and discretly. Was he in pain? Was he scared? I would never know. Maybe he was glad. Glad to be free of all the world's tiddlings. And life goes on for the rest of us continuing to deal with every little tiddlings the world has to offer. Days still come and go, life change, people change, and the world still turns.

Am i sad? No, strangely i am not. Do small things still reminds me of him? Yes, no doubt. When i see wrinkled skin of an unknown old uncle in the hawker center my heart stirs and i think of papa's wrinkly dry skin. Do i still dream of him? No, not really. Other things occupies my dream, other people, other stories, other aches. Do i still wish him to be around? No, not quite. Whats the point of wishful thinking anyway what's done is done. Do i still love him? Yes, very much so. Even more than ever, i guess it's true what people said about you'll never know the value until it's gone. Do i miss him? No, i try not to. After all missing is for something you have lost, and i have not lost him, how could i? When he's in the very air i breath in every second. Lastly do i still talk to him? Yes, every day, in my prayers and in my heart.

Godspeed Papa.

Love'

pink pink