Loosing and Discovering my Father

My Father passed away when I was eleven years old; I remember foggily that in the morning he complained about chest pain when I was leaving for school. When I came back my mother told me that he was no more, I predictably broke down but at that age the comprehension levels are rather low. I felt that he had just gone away on one of his office tours and would be back after a very long time, perhaps I was more upset about not being able to celebrate my birthday which was just next week because we had made grand plans for it. I feel awful putting this down on paper as I am admitting to being selfish, insensitive and a low life by admitting that it was my lost birthday I was crying over rather than my Father's death.

I was the adored daughter, special and pampered, my every wish was fulfilled and I was given the best of everything by my Father. Before the childish affection could grow into a relationship, my Father passed away so I never really knew him as a person. After his death I never had the opportunity to miss him as life took another course which took a great deal of adjustment and I was busy adjusting and dealing with adolescence.

Much later when I was working, I had to do some project work I met some people who knew my Father and I casually mentioned that I was the daughter of so and so. I did not expect the many good things people said about him, it was a revelation as I never really had a chance to learn about his professional side. During Durga Puja, my friend's father would specially introduce me as so and so's daughter. It was really touching to see the amount of respect people had for him as a person. We are not really a very close knit family but when I meet the extended family once in a while, I discover other bits and pieces, his love for cooking, his knowledge of Urdu, his writings, his paintings and so on.

Maybe had he lived we would have been good friends...