Unspoken Words

It has been a long time since I last wrote here. But writing has always been my best therapy. It is how I process the heavy things. It is how I empty my mind without having to say the words out loud.

This post was actually supposed to be published back in early June. It has been sitting in my drafts for weeks, waiting for me to hit publish. I finally decided to let it out today, because I have now processed everything and come to terms with the reality that he is no more.

On May 26th, 2026, my world stopped. My dad passed away.

The loss hit me harder than I ever thought possible. The last time grief touched my heart this deeply was when my grandpa died back in 2007. I am still struggling with the silence. There were signs he might not beat the sickness. I chose to ignore them. I just kept hoping he would pull through. Sometimes, I desperately wish he could have left a goodbye.

Now, I face a terrifying silence. When I am in a hard place and need to talk, he will not be there. There were moments in my life when I felt incredibly low and wanted to quit. He was the one who gave me the strength to go on. Now, there is just a deep, echoing emptiness.

Grief locks your heart. Mine just collapsed. I am usually a very calm person, but that peace is gone. My emotions are raw and awake in a way they never were before. I have tried to let him go, but the finality of it haunts me. The thought that I will never see or talk to him again is almost too much to bear.

Then comes the second reality. My safety net is gone. There is no backup anymore.

I know I have to step up. I need to be there for my Mum and the rest of the family. But the painful truth is, I am not ready. Part of me just wants to run. I want to go up my own mountain. I want to move to another country, start all over again, and focus one hundred percent on getting my finances together. I want to step away, build a family of my own, and climb that mountain completely alone.

But I am slowly realizing something important. I am not the only one hurting. I see the heavy toll this has taken on everyone—my aunts, uncles, cousins, and our entire extended family. I am not alone in this dark place.

Grief changes us, but it does not have to destroy us. If you are reading this and carrying your own heavy loss, know that it is okay to feel shattered. It is okay to feel angry, lost, and like you want to run away. That is just love with nowhere to go.

But the strength our loved ones poured into us does not die with them. My dad gave me the courage to keep going when I wanted to quit. I have to use that courage now. I might still need to climb my mountain, but I will carry his strength with me to the top.

I could write so much more, but for now, I am lost for words.

I will keep writing, though. We will find our way forward. One step at a time.