Last morning, while I was in conversation with my daughter, she sounded absolutely delighted to have her Dad with her after three weeks. Her million calls every day before that had been replaced with just one excited and perky call to express her joy in being with her Dad.
My entire family was together, while I was 5000 miles away, reminiscing of times I have missed my Dad and it dawned upon me that, after nearly six years, I am still hoping to see him and enjoy the same experiences I had. Has it been so long, I asked myself and I began to reflect on the times we shared, the sacred father-daughter bond.
The daily ritual of engaging in political and financial news occupied our breakfast sessions and when I got married and moved 20000 miles away, he educated himself with the internet world with the sole intention of communicating with me on morning chats! Thanks technology.
Be it Thursday trips to the Raghavendra Mutt or Sunday runs to Adigas, we were always excited to make it a ritual, a father-daughter exclusive.
My trips back home was like a time travel machine, filled with everything I liked and wanted and I was overwhelmed with details that went into planning it. Dad was my magic wand, making everything I wished magically appear.
Now all that remains are memories. Memories that are untouched by the sands of time, frozen, preserved and revered for life. When I visit, I still go to the house I grew up in, somewhere hoping that I’ll find him sitting on the couch smiling the same radiant way it is etched in my memory.
My yahoo calendar just sent me an update about his upcoming birthday! Happy birthday dad! You will be missed, but celebrated in my heart. I love you.
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I loved this blog piece. Reminds me of my Dad and to call him and say I love him :)
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