-Humans of New York- Piece

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Literature Text

“When my dad passed away, it was devastating for my family. He was so amazing and great, and I can’t even fit everything that made him so wonderful on here. I can sit here and tell you of how we had to shut down his gym--our gym--, how we had to move houses, how my mom can’t find a job, how much we all miss him, but I don’t want to do that. Because this isn’t about me, it isn’t about my mom, and it isn’t about my sister. It’s about him, the great Angel, and I’m going to remember him how he’d want to be remembered--I don’t want to burst into tears every time I think about him, and I don’t want to tell everyone my sob-story so they feel bad for me--I’m going to remember him in a positive way. I’m going to talk of him, not me; I’m going to speak about him with a smile, not a frown; I will not talk about him less, I will talk about him more than ever; I will do all this because while I miss him, while I want him back, while I wish everything was back to normal, he is still right here with me.

I have a lot of events I want to tell him about; I have a lot of questions I want to ask him about. I want to tell him about my first year of middle school, I want to tell him about how wonderfully silly my grandma’s dog Cosak was, I want to tell him how my mom and sister are doing; I want to ask him about his published books,  I want to ask him if my writing is any good, I want to ask him the story of coming to America and leaving Bulgaria. And I can end this sentence with a heartfelt and mellow ‘yet I can’t,’ but the thing is, I can. I’m not a religious person; I don’t believe in God, and doubt an eternal bliss or an eternal suffering--my dad’s death from an aggressive cancer fortifies my beliefs--, but when I write to my dad in our shared-notebook full of my letters to him, I can feel like he can really read it. I feel like he’s still in my heart, and how I share every moment with him through the necklace I carry with his fingerprint.

I wish he could take me into his arms just one more time and say, ‘Obicham te, malki chochtsko.’ I wish he didn’t have to go. I wish I could still hug him, and kiss him, and say ‘I love you,’ back to him, but just because I can’t do these, it doesn’t mean that he’s truly gone.”

"Humans of New York" is a blog where its original creator travels around the world and asks random citizens their story, a little piece of their life. Obviously, I was never interviewed for it, neither do I wish I was, but I wanted to share my personal story, my father's story.
© 2017 - 2021 Magnagate67
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