I had not realized that it was Father's Day until I talked to a friend online a while ago. It struck a chord in my brain. I think I try to live my days not thinking about what happened, and how much I did wish I still had a father in my life. And most the time I succeed. Then it's moments like these where all of the memories, the pain, the hurt, comes flooding back, and I wish that I could just fast forward to another day.

When my dad died of a heart attack, I was only 12 years old. And ironically, it was on Father's Day. Yes, I was young. But not young enough to where I wouldn't remember every tear I shed, and every moment that I thought I couldn't go on. Over that past 6 years, I found the strength and the willingness to go on with my life, and to find happiness in a lot of things I do.

And yet, I find myself alone, crying at 3 in the morning.

Looking back, I think I may have played the whole thing off like it didn't bother me as much as it really did. I tried not to think about it. I tried to forget. I wanted to forget the way he looked in the coffin, forget the way I felt after he died, and forget the months of torment that I put myself through. But forgetting is the last thing that I can do right now. I don't think I ever realized how much I truly missed him, missed his smiling face, missed when he'd take me out to movies when my mom was busy with her work, and missed the times he would never let me down.

Sure, there were rough times as well. I remember nights where I would sit alone in my room crying because I knew my parents were fighting downstairs. Nights where my dad would come into my room and start crying himself when he had to bring up the subject of divorce. I knew my family was falling apart. I knew there was nothing I could do about it.

What I didn't know was that I would be losing him sometime soon.

His death was so sudden, and no one could have prepared for it. One can never really prepare for death. But at 12, the last thing that I was expected to do was having to deal with the death of my own dad. I was still young! I needed him to be there for me. I had to do everything to tell myself that it wasn't my fault.

After he passed away, everything felt so different. A house that once seemed to be cozy and full of life all of a sudden felt empty, haunted, lifeless. In the book I'm reading, Kitchen, the narrator says, "The room was so unearthly quiet, I lost all sense of time being divided into seconds. I felt that I was the only person alive and moving in a world brought to a stop. Houses always feel like that after somone has died." That's exactly how I felt. I was so alone. I felt like no one understood what was going on. I didn't turn to my family, I didn't turn to my friends. I hid behind a facade of laughter and warmth to conceal what I was really feeling on the inside. Everyone thought that I was getting over it, and that I was going to be okay. But I wasn't. I cried myself to sleep every night for almost an entire year. And every night, I wished that it would be my last.

Thankfully, time makes a person wiser and stronger. I was able to move on. I saw life in a different light. I was able to look pass the bullshit and see things for what they really are. I began to appreciate everything that was in my life, and be thankful for the things or people I always took for granted.

As I was digging through my old scrapbooks, I found a letter that I had not touched in a long time from my dad. He wrote it to me when he was still in Taiwan but my mom and I were already here. I was only about 7 years old. I found it a few years ago and read it to Sivan and told her that it seemed as though he wrote it to me from Heaven.

My lovely, precious, Tammy,

     Long time no see. Daddy misses you a lot. But when I heard that mommy said you weren't eating right and had gotten really skinny, my heart began to ache. You have to eat more and drink milk. That way you will stay healthy and stay beautiful. Remember to listen to your teachers at school, and your mom at home. Be my good daddy's girl. I already received your letter, and the picture you drew was very pretty. You have improved a lot since the last time you sent me one. The weather is nice here, and I'm quite busy with work. After lunch I go play tennis, and after work I go visit your grandmother and grandfather. They all miss you a lot. I told them that you and mommy were coming back to Taiwan and Hong Kong and they are really happy. Ill be in Nashville in a few months. If you are good, I will take you to DisneyWorld in Florida, okay? If you have time, take lots of pictures with mommy and send them to me. I miss you too much. Hope you are good, and that you are happy. I love you.

                                          Daddy
                                         03/24/92

God, it kills me to read that again. I don't know why I do this to myself every year. The feeling lasts for only a day or two, and I'm back to my normal self. But when that feeling comes, it hits me hard. However, I know that I'm strong. I know that when I'm stressed out by something else, this was an experience that I could always look back on and think, "Okay. If I can get through that, I can get through anything." I try not to let the little things get under my skin, because hardly anything can surmount to a death in the family. I weigh certain situations more carefully and try not to take things or people for granted.

I don't have a problem talking about my dad's death to anyone now, but only a couple people know the full extent of my story. I think this may be the most intimate post that I've ever had in these past 2 or so years. I've really spilled my guts, haven't I? No, I'm not trying to envoke pity. I just feel that through writing, I can get a lot off my chest. I feel a lot better now. I've even stopped crying! I never realized how therapeutic writing can be... but I promise to not get so personal much from now on because I know you all probably hate my whining. I do need to get some rest though because i'ts getting quite late, but one last thing...

Wherever you are, Happy Father's Day, dad. I miss you.