søndag den 23. marts 2014

Loss (engelsk)



Before losing you I had no idea that feelings could hurt me so much, now I feel it every day. My skin crawls just thinking about you being beneath the ground, with you not holding my hand while I cry, without you. You are gone now and it makes me feel selfish. Because I wish you were still here. Still here to hold my hand and to wipe away my tears while thinking about saying goodbye. 
I want to hear you breath. I want you to kiss my head and tell me that everything is going to be okay. Just tell me that it will stop hurting because now it feels like a never ending thing. Sometimes I feel you around, I feel you watching me in the mirror sometimes, I feel you looking at me when I am up late and cannot find the peace I need to sleep. 
"You can let go now, daddy" That is what I told you while I was sitting next to you, when your breath was giving up. I thought I was ready to say goodbye but now I do not think I will ever be ready. The thought about you being away... Gone, to be exact. But are you gone? Are you still here with me? Are you in the necklaces I am wearing? In the earrings you gave me? In the cross you believe in? No matter what, I will never stop missing you. You are my hero. How will I ever be able to go through this life without you by my side? When I need support on my bike? When I move away to go to university? When I need a father's voice to tell me how proud he is? I miss you..
It also makes me angry. That is not your fault. It is this world. Why did he, or whoever chooses whose turn it is to leave, choose you? You have always been a loving and caring father. You have always been a genius. A man with a big heart. How will I ever be able to sing again? I always wanted to sing for you but I never really got the chance. Now it is too late, I can sing for your grave but I cannot look at your proud smile. Even though you always told me that it was not a career to choose, I could feel how proud you were. I do not want to make a career out of my singing, you already know that. I follow your footsteps. I want to grow big. I want to make a difference. I want a boat. I want to sail across big seas. I want to look down at the ocean and see the stars glimpsing at me. With you glimpsing at me. 
Give me a sign. I sign that tells me that you are here... Taking care of me, Marianne, Peter, Annette and mom. Marianne is trying so hard to be strong but I know that it is inside her, she is not okay. She is still sad and she is grieving our loss. We all are. Make her cry. It is better if she cries. It hurts what she is going through. Like you said when you touched her stomach. "Something is wrong with her stomach." Maybe you wanted to call an ambulance just as you did back in the days. Maybe you were right. She hides her sadness.. For their sake, I hope they will cry. I have found out that crying is a good medicine. It helps you. Do you cry sometimes when you are up there? I gave you a letter before I left, do you remember it? I wonder if you read it... I cried a lot while writing it. I cannot even remember what I wrote in it. "I try not to cry. Mommy says it is okay. I know you do not like when I cry. You never wanted me to be sad. I try daddy, but it hurts. Is it true you are not coming home? Maybe someday... I can visit you in heaven okay?"  It always makes me cry. I never pray. I am not a Christian. But you are, I know you are. If you believe in heaven, I believe that you are okay. You are far above the ground you are buried in, I know you are. Whether you are a new shining star in the sky or an angel in heaven. I do not care. But take care of yourself up there. Look down at us, visit us, give us some signs that you are still among us. Please. The anchor describes everything, let us sail on the blue oceans together some day.


I love you daddy.

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