When did you last see your father? The last time he was healthy and active? The last time you've argued about something? Cause, I have been trying to recall the last time I actually saw him. The last time he was unmistakably him. (When did you last see your father?, 2007)
The story behind my back,
I remember clearly that night, it was calm and quiet. As I walked in the house, late; I was expecting him to question me before I could even lock the doors. Surprisingly, nothing happened. I glanced over my back, I saw him sitting at his usual corner reading the newspapers while CNN news was his music.
He looked old, grumpy and exhausted. “That’s Mr. Ho,” I thought to myself. He is the person who loved food, art and life with a burning passion. He was a perfect and patient husband and a giant man who used to pick me up, swing me around till I yelled for mercy.
He sat comfortably on the wooden chair patiently waiting for me to return. I walked up to him and surprised him with Shane (Nikon dslr). He wore a euphoric grin; he was so much like a kid, all hyper and excited. He dropped his papers, switched off everything and brought me upstairs. He quickly took out all his gear and started his camera-lecture.
I questioned, he explained, we talked, we laughed, we were experimenting. That moment lasted till dawn, it felt like forever. My dad is the only man, who can tolerate my nonsense, my consistent tantrums and still love me. I did not want it to end, I felt safe, loved, pampered by his side.
Sadly, his passing happened in a blink of an eye. I had my hopes and spirit all high, I never expected it to be the last father-daughter conversation I had with him. Months later, my mother and I thought it will be a great idea to put the memories of him into a piece of art which reminds me of him everyday.
Every element in the tattoo meant something. The film camera certainly represents his love for photography and the last conversation we had. The stars reminded me of the scene where I used to be the kid who sits on his lap during movie nights. He would hugged me tightly while we were watching Lion King; it was the part where Mufasa was scolding Simba after being attacked by hyenas.
“Dad, we are pals right.”, asked Simba
“Right”, said Mufasa.
“We will always be together right?” Simba asked again.
Mufasa then explained to him, “Simba, let me tell you something that my father told me. Look at the stars, the great kings from the past look down on us from those stars. So whenever you feel alone, just remember those kings will always be there to guide you. And so am I.”
As stupid as this may sound, I believe he will somehow be my stars watching over me and guide me. Lastly, I wanted his signature to be part of the art as much as I want him to always be part of my life no matter where he is.
I would give everything in this world to be my daddy’s little girl. I want to be the wide-eye innocent child who wakes up once again next to you. I want to be able to hold your hand, kiss your forehead when you’re sleeping, hear you sing along Fergie’s song “Fergalicious def- def- def- def- def- …”, and to listen to you endlessly nagging and scolding me. It will be so nice to be part of that picture once more.
I miss you.
Love, Ems
[Once you've done reading this, go pick up the phone call your dad. Tell him how much you've love him and miss him. Or when you see your dad, shower him with hugs and kisses. Appreciate him while you can, before everything is too late.]
I fried my brains for thinking too much. Le Sigh.
I will want more tattoos, but each art should have a meaning behind.
I have new resolution: Only date boys who’ve seen you cry. Pretty much IMPOSSIBLE. Cheers!
