death to me

On the 12th of January 2011, I shared this poem

About death
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.

Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.

Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awaken’d birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.

Dear as remember’d kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign’d
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more.

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Never in my saddest dreams, would I have imagined the content of this poem being literally real to me - too real.

Dear papa passed away from respiratory failure as a result of stage 4 pancreatic cancer on the 18th of March 2012, on a grief-stricken Sunday evening at 5.40pm, 5 months from diagnosis. I didn't want to let him go. We still had plenty to do together - many wonderful places to explore all around the world, delicious food to eat together, laughs to share. There was still so much I hadn't learned from him, though I've learned so much through him. I have so much to share with him which I still hadn't.

I keep asking, why him? Why? He shared, cared, loved, gave and taught plenty to everyone. Don't know if I'll ever understand. Something good is supposedly to happen from every tragedy. But for now, I can't see the light at the end of my dark and lonely tunnel.

I dared to explore, dared to leap, dared to take on adventures because at the back of my mind, I always knew, he'd be there to fly me to safety if I needed him to. So what happens now?

Make me a storybook, write me away from here. I need a different now - where we can wear each other for awhile. I'll lend you my tears if I could borrow a smile. I'll get through tomorrow, somehow today. Happyafter, once upon these days


M