A Small Revelation

Christmas time… Christmas time has become a holiday season where mixed emotions spread within me. While it’s usually the holiday spent with the family, reuniting and recounting old memories, lately mine has been a bit empty. The days leading up to Christmas tend to be the ones most confusing to me, it’s hard to celebrate the holiday and not feel a hollowing guilt. The reason behind this disruptive holiday spirit is because exactly one week before Christmas my father passed away.

Usually I can easily suppress the feeling of nostalgia and depression by surrounding myself with friends, alcohol and hangovers that chain me to my bed. However, since I don’t plan on going out this weekend, nor drink for that matter, it’s been hard to shake the old memories of the pre-devastation days. The days where tragedies only happened in Greek plays and life seemed simple and perfect. It’s crazy how much things can change in a blink of an eye and that it can be in that single second, where someone’s life can just slip away forever.

It’s been nine years since my father passed, yet sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday and I’m back to being the 11-year old girl waiting for her father to meet her for Christmas. I seldom allow myself to recant the exact events that happened when I heard the news, but on some days I let myself remember. Sometimes I feel that memories get the worst of us when we’re alone, it’s only when you can share it with others that you really get to enjoy them. But then again, going through old photos and just reliving the past is a sadistic/masochistic pleasure that I let myself indulge in once in a while. I love looking at old family pictures because they remind me of times when the future didn’t seem scary and life seemed easy. Now that I think of it, maybe life was too perfect to carry on forever, but I didn’t expect it to end the way it did.

But it’s times like this, when I catch myself feeling an intense hatred for the universe and feeling sorry for myself, do I remember all of the amazing and adventurous memories I have. How even if time was cut too short,  and that eleven years is not enough time for a father to teach his daughter all of life’s lessons, I had the best dad anyone could ask for. Some people never get to establish a true relationship with their family, and I know I’m blessed to have had a father who really was my knight in shining armor, my hero. As devastating as it is that such an amazing person can disappear from your life forever through one telephone call, it might have been the only event that could have shaken me to realize what a blessed life I had and still do have, and how lucky I am to have my family.

It’s hard to understand why certain things happen, and it’s easy to feel cheated and blame it on someone or something, but ultimately it’s only ourselves we can blame for how we feel or how we are. We always have a choice, and sometimes it’s easier to choose to feel depressed and wallow over how life dealt you a shitty hand. I know I have the undesirable habit of doing so, but then I write, and life doesn’t seem as blue as before. We all find our solace through different forms, sometimes it can be through destructive habits (I know I have a few), but then again sometimes it can be through simple reflection. All I know is that sometimes music, writing and my family is all the therapy I need to recognize how life is too short to be down in the blues, and that although it’s easy to fall into the enchantment that old photos of a distant past hold, we can choose to be trapped by old memories or, finally let go and just cherish them for what they are, memories. For me, I know it’s time to change and let go, and hopefully, it’s one new years resolution I’ll be able to keep.

S xx


~ by colormehongkong on December 18, 2010.

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