ARE WE REALLY FINE?

I’m okay.. or maybe I’m not but “I’m okay” is a reflex response we all automatically blurt out.

You want people to ask you if you’re fine, but you don’t know how to answer that. I knew I did not know how. When you struggle with depression, pain and internal suffering and you have a toxic trait of masking it, you always say you’re okay even in your deepest brokenness.

I struggle. As much as I have struggled this past few years, nothing could have prepared me for the harsh reality that came with 2022. You know that feeling you get at the beginning of a new year? Where you tell yourself that this has to be your year? Well I had that… I mean in the first month of the year at least. Fast forward to February and my dad fell ill. It never struck me as something really serious because my dad had to be the strongest person I knew. Whenever his body gave in to nature, he always said “I’m not too fine oh but I’m managing” with this big grin on his face. If it was over a call, I would still hear him chuckle through those words. He had a way of seeming “okay” even when he wasn’t. So seeing him sick, I thought nothing of it. “He’ll be okay”, I said and joked through the hospital visits. Although it felt a bit off because he never got sick enough for a hospital admission, I still did not think much of it. He just was not one to be that sick or frail. As the days went by, my thoughts were confirmed. He got better and we went home. See? It was not a big deal after all. With all of these events, nothing ever clicked that made it seem “serious” until he got admitted to the hospital again.

Wait a minute? It should not be that serious I thought. But it was and I could not make sense of it. Daddy has been the most energetic person with the heartiest laughter and the wittiest jokes. He had the tallest physique and the strongest resilience. Surely, this man who was always the most health conscious could not be this sick. But He was and it was stressful to watch. I dare say heartbreaking but it didn’t really feel that way until February 28 when he was too sick to be the first person to wish me a Happy birthday. I told him and he still managed to chuckle. “Sorry my daughter”, he said; “Maybe next time”.

March 17th, 2022- This was a day like any other day. I had gone to work and carried on with my day until the closing hours. I thought to reach to my phone and ask my brother if we would go to the hospital to see my dad. I saw a text on our family group chat. “Daddy is gone” it read. The thing is, I chuckle in the most uncomfortable situations and it’s worse when I’m in denial. The text did not make sense so I decided not to make any sense of it. I closed for the day and called my brother to ask if he had seen what I had seen. It was true. I had lost him and the cold hands of death felt literal. I felt my heart racing, I could feel my chest clenching and in a few seconds that felt like forever, I could hardly breath. I felt my legs go numb so I took a seat but I chuckled some more because there was no way this made sense. I packed my bag and was on my way home and some of my colleagues who new my dad was ill asked me how he was doing. I said “he’s fine. He’s getting better; I’m going to see him now”. Back to that same reflex response of “it’s fine; I’m fine; I’m okay”. I thought I was fine because what else could I be feeling? It couldn’t have been grief because I was in denial.

My dad had left me and all I could think of was “This makes no sense but I’M OKAY, I’M FINE.”