12 years today I said goodbye to my dad. I remember after his funeral driving back to our family home and watching everyone outside the car and thinking life still goes on when mine has just changed . Losing a parent is never easy no matter what kind of relationship you have had with them; it is a part of you that leaves. I remember when my dad died I felt that someone took something away from me without asking and the core of my belly felt like a deep well with no ending.

 

I wish my dad can see me now, the woman I have grown into, I know he is proud wherever he is but as I reflect on my growth and lessons and challenges in the last 12 years, I admit that I have learnt to understand and appreciate him authentically in my own way and in my own time.

My dad was a strong spirited man dedicated to helping and supporting to make South Africa a country where everyone is treated equally even if it went against his own principles at times . He strived for fairness and justice consistently. He was an intelligent and bold man, an avid reader and loved reciting poetry. I was struck in awe by his ability to quote great authors and leaders from Shakespeare to Winston Churchill to Steve Biko to Martin Luther King and our dear Madiba. My dad had the most interesting stories about his childhood, his life as an activist and teacher and for those that knew him , he always had to tell us how his parents came to South Africa as children without their parents as indentured laborers by the British. He told his stories with such passion and depth. We were reminded constantly from an early age about how he went to school bare feet or how his mother will cook a meal for them with one chicken for 10 people to share or after school how he would sit underneath the trees watching his dad cut sugar cane while reading or doing his homework. He wanted us to work hard, get a good education, live a respectful life and learn to appreciate life and not take things for granted growing up.

I have fond memories of my dad as a little girl till the age of around ten ; memories that made me laugh and play with my dad. I remember as a five year old sitting on my dad’s lap and that was the happiest place for me. As I grew older I grew up very angry with my dad. I was angry that he was not available to me. I was angry that he did not have time for me, I was angry that he was angry, I was angry that he was so impatient. If my dad was not working he was at home reading and preparing his work or watching the news. I wanted him to be available to me but he was too busy and as s child I internalized that and formulated my own assumptions and belief systems about myself based on how my dad was not available to me the way I wanted him to be. In this time I did not look at all the good my dad was doing to take care of his family nor did I at the time understand that he was doing the best he could as my dad. We are indeed interesting species as human beings; we welcome fear into our lives with open arms ignoring the blessings that are right in front of us. I made peace with my dad years before he passed on and realized that he did the best he could given the circumstances. I never doubted his love for me I just wanted him to be more in my life.

In the last 12 years I have found that the peace that I made with my dad is not just acceptance but it is compassion, empathy, gratefulness, blessings and pure love. After going through loss myself I began to understand how my dad would have felt, he lost his dad when I was 10 years old and shortly after that his two brothers and his best friend who all meant the world to him and this definitely had an impact on him but he still stood tall as the family head with the extended Raju family, he always showed up for everyone else in our family, the adviser, the support structure, the go too person.

Older and wiser and still learning , I appreciate the similar characteristics that I have off my dad which I have learnt to embrace, his strong sense of fairness and justice , his impatience unfortunately , his charming personality , his love for engaging with people and being in social spaces , his love for dancing and also his inability to hold alcohol

As my dad passed on and I started to grieve, I had a deep sense of regret. A regret that our relationship never evolved into what it should have or could have been. I wished my childhood anger towards him never was part of the dynamic of our relationship. I felt mixed emotions of anger and sadness. A sadness that he will not be there to walk me down the aisle one day. 12 years on I still grieve his passing, forever grateful for his love and grateful for the life he gave me. I am proud to call him my dad.

I have learnt to work with my fears and assumptions that I carried with me for a long time and some of them I still work on when they surface and I remind myself that I am deserving of love and worthy of love and that my dad loved me and that he was perfect with all his imperfections. I shall continue to become a better version of myself.

“No man is an island; entire of itself, every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. ….any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls, it toll for thee” John Donne

Love and light