My Dad left this world two years ago today.
He left quietly, non-intrusively, unceremoniously, in his sleep.
Just the way he would have wanted -
Simple, hassle-free, clean.
For a year I tried to learn how to grieve from afar.
Away from family and friends, removed from the sights and smells of the memories we once shared.
I realised my body needed to feel the loss.
Not just in my head, but to physically, viscerally, mourn his absence.
When I made the decision to move back to Singapore, I had to battle with another loss -
Leaving behind the person that I was going to share the rest of my life with.
Someone whom I thought was everything I could ever asked for.
And now another year has gone.
2020 felt like a year of resets on steroids.
Heartbroken. Letting go and letting in. Belief systems crushed. Hopes dashed. Fears transformed. The impossible made possible.
My father taught me to keep things simple, to always look for the silver linings, to move pain into joy, suffering into compassion, fear into hope.
So today I light another candle.
For you, dear Papa.
In this flame we journey together,
into a space
where it's timeless and boundless.
"Hope" is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I've heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity
It asked a crumb - of me
~ Emily Dickinson
Registered Yoga Therapist, Somatic Movement Educator, Bodyworker, Yoga Teacher Trainer