It’s been slightly more than 23 years since I last saw you, spoke to you, touched your hand, hugged you or just sat in your presence. I miss you! I really, really miss you. I miss the sound of your voice, how you’d call me Hamzeey (you’re still the only person who called me by that nickname). I miss your hugs. I really wish I could hug you right now. I miss your words of wisdom, your sense of humour (I think you’d like my sense of humour, though I tend to be a tad cynical) and I miss the sound of your laughter. Not a day goes by when I don’t imagine what life would be like had you not died. Every situation that I find myself in I imagine a scenario where you’re present and sharing in the happy moments. I do get to make duah for you, though. That’s something. It’s the only thing I can do, really. I also get to hold on to the memories. I get to look at photos of you. I get to be proud when people (to this very day) still talk about what a fantastic man you were. You were always there for people when they needed help and you never expected or wanted payment for helping people. Your generosity and selflessness is inspiring and unmatched. You’ve left people with a lot of good memories of you. They always mention how you made them laugh, always listened, how you always helped whoever you could with whatever you could. It gives me a feeling of warmth inside to hear these things about you and inspires me to be the kind of son you’d be proud of. I used to cry a lot in the beginning because of the void left by your death, but as I got older it got a bit easier. I still cry sometimes, but it’s easier to now laugh and smile at the memories. Mostly, thank you for being my father. I love you. Lots of big hugs, Hamza.
Posted on: Thu, 25 Sep 2014 21:35:51 +0000
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