my father, P Thampy died on this day in 1998.
i miss you so much daddy.
i always will.
may you be at peace.
may you continue to feel our unwavering love.
may you clearly hear my raucous laughter when i inevitably remember your stories, your inimitable wit, your proclivity to use the filthiest malayalam words ever forged (as if they were the queen`s bloody english).
may you excuse the tears that still spring so readily to the eyes you marvelled at in a southern california nursery, thirty years ago this january 4.
may you continue to star in my dreams (which always seem to occur at macy's: you, me +veena!), so that for a few hours every night, i can pretend you're still here; for five years i didn't dream of you, and that just isolated my heart more.
may you forgive me for being a 30-year old, unmarried girl who STILL hasn't gone to law school. (may you also sense my fervent gratitude; i know that your ire and bitterness center wholly on the latter disappointment.)
may you continue to protect me with the same excessively cautious, terrifying ferocity you employed when you were mortal; now i know what it feels like to have a heavenly lobbyist, an invisible interloper, an ethereal guardian...
may the unforgettable effect you had on everyone you ever encountered never fade from their eternally-altered lives and memories.
may your "legend" grow; may it be preserved and passed on, so that other incorrigible malayalee four-year olds can be tamed by the mere mention of your name (no, before you ask, i was not one of them.)
most of all, may your words, influence and lessons guide me forever.
with all of my forlorn heart,
your punjara kuttan, thakad mon, daddy`s mol