I think I'll do something different today and write a blog post that's completely serious. Okay just kidding that's basically impossible... a blog post that's meant to be serious and the first sentence is a joke. Good start. Well I've been sitting here for quite some time now trying to figure out what exactly to write about, if I even should write at all. It might not exactly follow it's usual joke after joke pattern, but it will be equally as meaningful and I promise to throw in a good joke or two. Today I write in memory of my father, who died three years ago on this day.
I stayed home from school in order to recover from the weekend's sickness, a conveniently timed sickness if I do say so myself. Apparently my emotions are friends with my immune system. ("Ba-dum-TSH!" You're welcome.) Today I dedicated all of my time to my journal and my brain. Well, after watching almost an entire season of "House," that is. (Don't worry I'm watching it in Spanish so I can learn the medical terminology in two languages!) Everything you read now, I wrote from a mountaintop. To all of you who worry about me and my desire to be alone on this day, you shouldn't. I spent my afternoon in the best possible place I could possibly think of. Here is a picture...
I want to make this blog post as short as I possibly can. I can't describe the exact emotions I feel right now, but I want to view them as a sign of maturity. People say that anything can heal with time, I disagree. I think the effect of death is a wound that never leaves. Like a scar, almost. But a scar simply means, "I survived." Every day is difficult. I'll never miss my father any less. I'll always long for a last hug, a last chance to tell him that I love him. My biggest regret will always remain my resistance to say goodbye. But with every day that I grow and develop as a human being, I become stronger. And as much as I think I'm becoming more absentminded with every passing second, I'm gaining so much knowledge. I will never understand why it had to happen when it happened, how it happened. But it did happen, it's something I need to accept and it has shaped me into the girl I am today. Judging by where I currently stand in life, an independent 16 year old alone in a foreign country, I would say I've matured into something he would be proud of. Into something that I can be proud of. And I am, I am proud of myself, which is something not everyone can say.
My father in his last few months was very religious. Being a teenager, religion, in addition to everything else in life, is something I constantly question and explore in my mind. I am respectful to all opinions and religions, listening carefully to all points of views in hopes that one day I will be able to obtain an equal amount of faith that my father possessed. I admire anyone with faith, simply because it's so difficult to understand; belief in something solely based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof. I used to be disappointed in myself, that I couldn't be as faithful, as hopeful as my father was. I think now I understand that I have time to figure that out. It's frustrating, it's a constant struggle. Even though at this point in time I cannot say that I know exactly where I stand religiously, I like to believe that there is a God, some sort of higher power of all goodness. I like to believe that there is an afterlife of paradise (call if Heaven, if you wish) and that if you live your life well as a good person, you will go there for the rest of eternity. I can confidently say that I know my father is out of pain, I know he is in this heaven with his God looking down on me and smiling. I know he's happy.
I'm saying goodbye to the last ray of sunshine and darkness is beginning to emerge over the city. To conclude yet another blog post, I will leave with one final observation. I'm alone in a city which I came to knowing nothing, knowing nobody. In some ways, I'm still alone. In some ways I think will always be alone, no matter where I am in the world. But today, sitting here on this mountain, on a day that has previously qualified as the loneliest day of my life, I have never felt more loved. I have people who care about me, people in my life who would do anything for me. I have friends who I would do anything for. The distance away from my home after these two months makes me realize how much I love them, it makes me realize how much they love me. And even though I may no longer have a father physically here with me on this earth, I had a father who looked out for me, who loved me unconditionally with everything he had, who taught me how to live my life as a good person. I have a father in my heart who reminds me on a daily basis that I am something special, that I will do good things with my life. That's more than anything I could ever need.