I Wish I Had Known My Dad
He passed away on my nineteenth birthday
I was always my dad’s little princess.
We lived in Delhi NCR, India. He had a flourishing business. You know the sort of man who was always either on calls or busy sending emails from his Blackberry? I was so proud of him.
I could see how highly he was respected by everyone else. How he lived up to be the man of the family. He also, went out of his way to please me. He set standards no other man could live up to. Talk about having daddy issues.
I remember us walking around the veranda of our house one day. I must’ve been 12 maybe? My memories are all messed up now. I was whining about how I wanted the new iPhone. iPhones were still a new shiny thing at this point.
But, they were extremely expensive in India. Not that we couldn’t afford it, but he was careful about money that way. He was a self-made man who came from a lower-middle-class family. At one point, all his family owned was one bicycle. One bicycle, for all six of them. So if he could spend less on something, he would.
He called up someone who was coming from the US soon and asked them to bring it for us if they could. All I knew or cared about was that I’d have my new shiny phone in a few days. I don’t think there was anything I ever asked for that I didn’t get.
Except for a pool in the house maybe. Once, I was audacious enough to say we should put a pool on our veranda. In those days, such luxury wasn’t very common even amongst well-to-do families. He was crazy enough to consider it, but I think for logistical reasons it just didn’t happen.
My relationship with my father was all roses and rainbows until I was finishing up the 7th grade. I was in boarding school at this point. During one of my summer vacations, we had taken a road trip to Chandigarh to meet some family. On the way back, I was probably playing a game on his phone.
Some notification came up from a woman I didn’t recognize. When I opened the app, the profile my Dad was using displayed an Uncle’s name. Weird.
Long story short, it was a dating app and he wasn’t using his real name. I got really really really upset when I eventually figured out what was happening. The fake bubble of the perfect happy family I had been living in had been crumpled.
Eventually, I went back to school and spent a whole month crying. He was my knight in shining armor, you know? The perfect man who could do no wrong. How and why would he ever hurt us like this?
This was the same man who could never say no to me. The man who built a brand new house for our little family of three when I was born. The man who brought me an entire blueberry cheesecake each time he came to visit me at boarding school because he knew how much I loved it. The man no one ever came close to — how could they?
And then when I was in the 10th grade, he fell sick. He got a heart attack right before my 10th-grade final exams and fell into a coma. He fell at the f*cking gym. Man was trying to take care of himself and God said I’ll do you one better.
I came back home after my exams. Enrolled into a school near home.
He stayed in the coma for three years.
Our house was a mess for those three years. My mom was a mess. I became someone I didn’t recognize. Eating horribly, gaining pounds and pounds of fat every month, staying in bed watching Netflix all day, never going out.
I didn’t know how to take care of myself. And my Mom had to take care of Dad.
I got to know a lot about him during those three years. How he cheated regularly, brought other women home, how he wanted to get sexual with me but my Mom didn’t let him. How his business was dirty and he wasn’t a good man.
It got too much and I couldn’t bring myself to spend time with him while he just lay there helpless, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to sit up.
3 years later, on the morning of my nineteenth birthday, he passed away.
It happened suddenly, we weren’t expecting it at all. The doctors had said he would eventually get better and return to a somewhat normal life. Afterwards, everyone said it wouldn’t have been too hard, right? You knew this would happen. It wasn’t sudden at least. I wanted to kick their asses.
After he passed away, I got to know a lot about my Mom. About how, maybe just maybe, all the things she had told me about Dad were not 100% true. Maybe she was hurt and grieving and things were exaggerated. That he wasn’t a demon. That he was still the same man who had built a beautiful home for us.
Maybe her Bipolar disorder screwed some things up in her brain and she wasn’t the most reliable person when it came to telling the truth.
Dad, I’m sorry I didn’t sit with you enough.
I wish I would’ve known you for myself. I wish I had known you as an adult.
Thank you for everything you gave us.
For what you didn’t, for your mishaps, it’s alright. I let it go.
I still love you. I hope you’re in peace.
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