D.A.D

"Hey sweetheart, how was school today?"
My dad would ask me right after work. Then he'd scoop me off the ground into his arms with his shirt and tie still on. My favourite part was when I playfully pulled his tie and he will make a funny sound and face that I no longer remember and I would giggle so hard in his arms every time he did that.

He was my father, the one I loved, the one who told me I could make it, the one I always thought was the strongest in the whole wide world and no one else could be stronger. Until...

A corner, a turn, an accident, a death. Took it all away, gone. My hope, my strength, my strong tower. He was to me the great wall to China, always there, always protecting, never failing.

I didn't understand death then, but I figured it out when I stood next to his hospital bed and shook him as hard as I could, calling him, imagining he was just sleeping and needed to be waken up like every normal morning but this time, he never woke up. He lay there senselessly, unmoving. I cried, hard, hoping he could hear me but the only thing I heard in reply was the beeping of machines and the sound I still hate till today, silence. It was then, that I truly understood, what death was really about and that he'll be gone forever.

I did miss him, a lot... but I remembered how he would tell me each morning before school: you can make it, you will make it, just keep holding on(I really hated school then). I did hold on and I still am. I may look jolly and happy all the time for only one reason: I'm still holding on. To what? To whom?

To the only one from above that I have.