The Life My Father Built, and the Life I Chose

Shot when I was on my way to Langkawi earlier this month.

You know what things I couldn’t comprehend about my dad passing away?

He didnt get to spend a single cent of his pension money. He was just 2 years away from being retired. He saves a lot of money. He built houses for all of his kids. The last thing he bought for himself was a 2002 Mercedes car. Used. And he was able to use it less than a year.

And here I am. In airport. Travelling. With zero savings. And I still chose this path. Its mindblowing. Of these circumstances.

But he hate me go for travel. He hate it when im open unlike the conventional woman supposed to be in his dictionary. He hates my job. He hates what path I took in my life.

You right. He couldnt see me of who I grown up as. Grow up being. A human. Instead he saw me as a thing. A rebellion. A mess. A dark entity. Something that doesn’t live correctly. Its sad. Its really sad. He couldnt see what kind of person I am.

Of how big my heart is. Of how much I bloom and radiates. Of how much empathy I have. Of how heal I am. Of how compassion his daughter has become.

But I still believe one thing. After he passed away, I feel it strongly in me. Very very strong. That he is around me. Looking out for me. Which makes me wants to do more great big things in my life. To show to him in his afterlife that his daughter are a very big heart person.

I want him to see everything of me. The bad and the good. And let him know I am not what he thought I am when he was alive. I know he is there, looking at me all the time.

Just watching. I dont want to say with regret because I dont know what he feels on his last day of breathing. But he is there. Watching. Guarding.