How it all began

I always knew I was special in my daddy's heart. I was the youngest of 4 children, and the only girl. I had to be, right? I wonder what it felt like for my dad to finally have a girl, after my mother gave him three sons of whom he would be proud one day. I'm sure he was filled with mixed emotions, the joy and promise of a new girl, but also concern for how to protect her from this big bad world.

Throughout my 42 years, he tried his best to teach me everything he knew about life: how to be a good person, to be proud and dignified, to be level-headed and wise, to be gracious and well-respected. He never prepared me for the day I would send him off to the great unknown, "The Leap", as he would call it. He took his final leap eight days ago now, Friday, September 17th, 2010. It was the most crushing day of my life, where I felt his skin become cold to the touch, as though life had slipped out of him like it was never there to begin with. This great man, whom I admired and loved so much was part of air, his body was all that was left behind as evidence that he truly did exist. It was a dream that I never wished to experience, because I never believed that my father would really take that leap.

This blog is dedicated to my father, Miqdad. It serves two purposes: the first being to help me overcome my grief, the second is to serve as a scrapbook of his life, with stories and tidbits that come to mind, and perhaps capture that air that he is now a part of.

I love you, Baba!