Another 365 days without you.

I had always wanted to write this, but I kept pushing it cause I couldn’t, i could not go one line without crying, but here it goes.

When it comes to summarizing my father’s life, one concept keeps coming up. There has never been a man who has lived his values more sincerely.

My dad was an all-around educator. His strategy was straightforward. He demonstrated by example. When confronted with an ethical quandary, at any age, I find myself returning to one simple question after reflection, study, or even rationalization. What would Dad do? His character is the foundation of my conscience

Dad was someone to look up to, someone to emulate, someone to admire, someone to be proud of and brag about, someone to hold and someone to cry with, someone to learn from and respect, someone to listen to and talk to, someone to try to impress, sometimes rebel against, and, most importantly, someone with whom to share everything this wonderful life has to offer.

Dad never disappointed another man. He followed through on every commitment he made. Everyone knew that his word was his bond. I never heard him tell a falsehood or deceive somebody on purpose.

Dad was a self-made man who relied on himself. My father approached the world as a man who would master it, from his education to his work, from his expertise with any tool that could form wood, metal, brick, or cement.

Dad appreciated the finer things in life, such as culture and music, travel, food and wine, and friends and family. While he never had the intense relationship of a best friend, nor did he hunt, fish, or play football with the boys, the number of people who called my father a friend was numerous.

Dad was devoted. His loyalty to the important people in his life could be seen in the way he kept in touch with his childhood friends. Dad could always be counted on to be there, from the streets of Umegwu in the ethnic ghetto where they grew up to weddings, christenings, and holidays; he was that friend who showed up.

Dad was never stingy with his money. Though he was a Depression-era child who understood the worth of every Naira and the significance of saving, his financial generosity matched his generosity of spirit, he adored my mother with all of his heart, his obvious fondness overshadowing his usual reserved demeanor. Dad’s unwavering support for Mom’s professional and personal growth established the ideal balance, resulting in a childhood for me and my sister that today appears to be a lost Nigerian dream. I still say it, they were my best couple.

Only twice did I ever see my father cry, the first time was when he fell sick with prostate cancer, it was as if he’s entire world was falling apart, that was the day , he started entering his shell, then it got worse, he couldn’t move or do anything, couldn’t go to work, all he did was stay at a particular spot, my elder brother David was the one who had to bathe and change him, for a man who was the breadwinner of the house, now at home paralyzed , he cried so much about it .

The second time I saw my dad was the day I came back from boarding school, he wasn’t at home, I had made a fuss at home of wanting to go and see him, mum took me, i tried so hard not to cry, but it came all out , and he cried too, that was the second time I had seen him crying . And while I knew Dad was as torn up inside as I was, his crying ceased long before mine did. Because he knew it was his job to be the rock for me to lean on.

After his death, we had lost everything, treating prostrate cancer is so expensive, honestly it was so hard to even get by, but thank God for growth.

Icheku nnem chemba , Agwo turunbe (I’m not sure I got the spelling right ) , that’s still one of the names I miss calling you. I miss you so much, I miss the talks, I miss when you’ll get mad at us for going over a rule , or when you’ll allow us look for your “ winter jacket “ , the stories, the jokes, I miss talking to you every day . It’s funny how I still send messages to him on WhatsApp from time to time, I know no one is reading or responding to it, I just did it to help me move forward.

It’s another year without you, a lot of times I’ve wanted to give up. I was so scared, there were times I gave up, I cried my eyes out in my room when no one was watching because it was hard. It’s still hard but I’m trying.

There are days where I just want to talk to you, then I look and remember, “ ohh he’s not there” . They say it’s gets better but does it? A lot of the people saying it’s get better doesn’t know the feeling of pain or grief, where you feel so down and tired, you just want it to stop.

Honestly, it’s hard getting by most times, I wrote this in tears, water dropping down my eyes as I was typing. February 13th was the day you left, the day you took your final breathe, I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but I’m asking for one thing, give mummy the strength she needs to pass through tomorrow , cause it’s that day she lost her partner, her best friend, and husband.

Dad had a quiet dignity, respecting himself the way he respected others. As he faced his final days, his body ravaged with the cancer that ate his bones, he occasionally lost his good humor.

The last words I was blessed to be able to share with him as I caressed his withered brow the night before he died were the same words he had said to me each time i bring my school result home “ I am proud of you “ .

Looking back at things that happened over the years, though there were shortcomings, but God has been good.

To anyone reading this, do not take your health for granted, go for checkups.

Onuoha Damian i entrust you to almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator.

May you rest in the arms of the Lord who formed you from the dust of the earth.

May holy Mary, the angels and all the saints welcome you now that you have gone forth from this life.

May Christ who was crucified for you, bring you freedom and peace.

May Christ who died for you admit you into his garden of paradise.

May Christ, the true Shepherd, embrace you as one of his flock.

May he forgive all your sins, and set you among those he has chosen.

May you see your Redeemer face to face, and enjoy the vision of God, forever.

Eternal rest grant unto you , O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon you . May your soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

Farewell, Pop. You did good. You did real good.