And so it begins…
Dear Pappilo, I miss you so much.
I moved to a new city yesterday, the one I told you about, the one you were excited to see me go to. It’s really nice here. I like it, you would have loved it.
It’s been 21 days since your demise and 23 days since I last heard your voice. Don’t worry, I’d stop counting, I won’t be able to keep up anyways, but those numbers felt weird for some reason and so I wrote them. I woke up this morning and you know our regular ritual of you praying for me on the first day of everything new I start? No one did it.
Mum is doing her best honestly, it has not been easy for her. I was home with her before I moved yesterday. She misses you, we all do. Today officially feels like the first day without you even though you’ve been away for a bit now. It stings all over again.
Ah, yes Pappilo, ‘my friend’ also lives in this city. It’s really nice here. I like it, everyone likes that I am here too. Today feels like the beginning of forever for me. I am scared, nervous, excited, sad and happy. If you were here, you would have made everything easier, your laugh, your sarcasm, your pride for me, your encouragements. Daddy, I miss you terribly.
Your funeral was weird. You were so full of life, it almost felt like you were above death, seeing you lying there, so pecefully in your white outfit, no expression, no pain, just calm was so unlike you and I have refused to accept that image. That is not how I want to remember you, that is not the last image I want to have of you, so I am writing this down, in my new laptop, on my new comfortable desk and I am creating the image of you I want to see, you nodding your head and telling me how nice everything I am telling you is. Yes, that is the image I will remember you by, the image of you reading my letter.
Today’s letter is dediated to you. I don’t know who would have the next letter, I don’t know if I would write you more ,but I wanted to send you this one. I have to go now Pappilo, I have to work. I love you so much.
Your Dear Daughter,
Ada Daddy.