It’s hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember.
I adored my father. Simply because he was always there. He never ignored me. Never said “no time now”. Answered my, sometimes potty, questions.
I was 10 when he died and remember very little. Some chapters however are very clear, engraved into my memory. Some things, some thoughts, I will never forget. They are hanging above my head. They suddenly cross my mind, unexpected. Dad wanted me to be a strong girl, becoming a strong women. I always wonder if he would be proud of me, knowing who I become. I have no memories of my father worrying about a thing. When I look at Bart, I see the same. But I know for sure, inside his head are millions thoughts, million little troubles he is not telling me about. Just to shelter me.
I probably idealize the relationship my dad and I have had. But that’s ok. I remember him being a gentle, tall man, very handsome too.
Some time ago I was overthrown with memories. Bart helped me to escape. He learned me not to live in the past. To live now. And I’m doing my very best just to do that. I always said, I would give everything, literally everything to see my father for a few minutes. But it hits me now… I could never give up Bart. Never give up our little family we have with Viva. Recognising that gives me some kind of peace. Knowing that, I can move forward, concentrating on what I have, not what I have had. Although the wonderful memories are there, I have given them a place, they don’t take over my life anymore.
A little piece of my father lives inside of me. It will always be there. And that pleases me… because I want to be alike.