"Memories Warm You Up From The Inside. But They Also Tear You Apart"
- Haruki Murakami
Sunday 15June came and went. For some, it was a day to post amazing moments of sharing unforgettable memories with their beloved fathers.
Trust me, I wanted to do the same but then I realised that I didn't have moments captured by a camera with my father. What I had were memories etched in my brain and heart of the smallest things that we did together, the things he said to me and the things he's done for me.
There's one thing that both of us shared together, we liked being behind the camera to capture the memories of other people or of a moment in hopes it would stand the test of time and be a memory to those who did not experience it to feel what we felt looking through the camera lens.
I remembered following him to his daily shoots and growing up wanting to be a director just like him. To create something beautiful in motion to share with the world and make them experience everything I felt as if they were with me in that moment.
I also remembered being his muse for his next photo shoot or his next short film.
One of my memorable days was when he bought me my first pet, a brown baby rabbit and a white and brown spotted rabbit. He then brought me to our backyard and set up a table, a few bowls as props and we spent the whole afternoon in that backyard taking shots of those two rabbits.
I honestly don't remember having any big fancy birthdays or any friends invited to my house but I never felt alone because my father always had something to inspire me with. He would bring me to the mountain tops near Jakarta because he knew my favourite thing to do was to ride a horse along the tea plantations.
I wish we had some reminders of the times we had together, a proof of all the things we did. Yet, I feel like I treasure each moment we shared more than ever because I don't have this proof I prayed for. I don't have the ability to show people what I experienced with him but I can hope to share it by making them feel what I felt through sharing the memory.
Indeed it is true that a memory can warm you up from the inside. I look back on these small things we did together and feel happy. The ability to hide away in that memory to be lost and consumed by that moment brings me back to the emotions and happiness that I felt when I was young. The total ease of life, without worry or fear and the security I felt makes me happier than I am in real life.
But of course, it can also tear you apart. The moment I release myself from those memories the feeling of loss and abandonment starts to replace the joy of childhood. At the same time, I don't want to remember those days because it hurts too much. On the flip side, I know that it's the only way to keep him alive.
One day I hope I can share these memories, these feelings of my father with my children. To show them how their grandfather loved me and in turn to let them feel his love through me.
They say that with time, it'll get better, the pain will lessen. In all honestly, that's not true. Time doesn't heal anything. You will feel every pain, every stab in the heart but with time, you learn to bear with it. To cope with the pain. To be able to wake up the next day and tell yourself that "I'm okay".
So, to my dad. Happy Father's Day.
You might not be here, but that doesn't mean you stop being my dad.
Sunday 15June came and went. For some, it was a day to post amazing moments of sharing unforgettable memories with their beloved fathers.
Trust me, I wanted to do the same but then I realised that I didn't have moments captured by a camera with my father. What I had were memories etched in my brain and heart of the smallest things that we did together, the things he said to me and the things he's done for me.
There's one thing that both of us shared together, we liked being behind the camera to capture the memories of other people or of a moment in hopes it would stand the test of time and be a memory to those who did not experience it to feel what we felt looking through the camera lens.
I remembered following him to his daily shoots and growing up wanting to be a director just like him. To create something beautiful in motion to share with the world and make them experience everything I felt as if they were with me in that moment.
I also remembered being his muse for his next photo shoot or his next short film.
One of my memorable days was when he bought me my first pet, a brown baby rabbit and a white and brown spotted rabbit. He then brought me to our backyard and set up a table, a few bowls as props and we spent the whole afternoon in that backyard taking shots of those two rabbits.
I honestly don't remember having any big fancy birthdays or any friends invited to my house but I never felt alone because my father always had something to inspire me with. He would bring me to the mountain tops near Jakarta because he knew my favourite thing to do was to ride a horse along the tea plantations.
I wish we had some reminders of the times we had together, a proof of all the things we did. Yet, I feel like I treasure each moment we shared more than ever because I don't have this proof I prayed for. I don't have the ability to show people what I experienced with him but I can hope to share it by making them feel what I felt through sharing the memory.
Indeed it is true that a memory can warm you up from the inside. I look back on these small things we did together and feel happy. The ability to hide away in that memory to be lost and consumed by that moment brings me back to the emotions and happiness that I felt when I was young. The total ease of life, without worry or fear and the security I felt makes me happier than I am in real life.
But of course, it can also tear you apart. The moment I release myself from those memories the feeling of loss and abandonment starts to replace the joy of childhood. At the same time, I don't want to remember those days because it hurts too much. On the flip side, I know that it's the only way to keep him alive.
One day I hope I can share these memories, these feelings of my father with my children. To show them how their grandfather loved me and in turn to let them feel his love through me.
They say that with time, it'll get better, the pain will lessen. In all honestly, that's not true. Time doesn't heal anything. You will feel every pain, every stab in the heart but with time, you learn to bear with it. To cope with the pain. To be able to wake up the next day and tell yourself that "I'm okay".
So, to my dad. Happy Father's Day.
You might not be here, but that doesn't mean you stop being my dad.
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