May 09, 2005


Today, it's been 3 years since my father passed into the light. I don't talk much about it, but I miss him all the time. My father was very close to me. I was his little girl. Since I also was his only child, I think at one point I became also his son. (Don't misinterpret me, I am a woman, but at the moment where I moved out, 5 years ago, I also was a tomboy, which I still am.)

So anyway, I went to Senegal, which was a country that my father had loved very very much in the 80's, when we lived there as a family. I finally completed my studies and got my attorney license, which was something my father had given hope on. I am now living a reality with which he was very well acquainted, which was to come back home after an assignment overseas and be without a job. Bottom line is, I miss my dad, because there is so much I would have to say to him today, and all I can do is say it here.

I miss those late breakfasts with him, cooking eggs and ham, talking, driving. I miss going out on a limb with him, just for the pleasure to drive and to explore an area unknown to me. I miss explaining Star Trek to him. I miss going out on dates with him and watching movies, eating a smoked meat sandwich on St-Laurent Blvd.

My stay in Africa was a break from mourning. On that sunny continent, the reality of his permanent absence was weaker. Sometimes, I even forgot about it. Makes coming back to Canada all the more difficult.


007 in Africa said...

That's very sweet. I'm sure your Dad is really proud of you and happy that you have reconnected with one of his favorite countries. Heck, I'm proud of you!

Beaver said...

* does comment dance*

Thanks 007... I guess it's all part of growing up...