generated with meta.ai
Anur sobbed under the covers as she drew a photo album from her bedside drawer. Her lamp was dimly lit but she knew all the lines and creases of every photo on the album. She had looked at it an unhealthy amount of times in the last six months. Anur struggled for a sort of closure she knew she was probably never going to get.
“Why did you just leave me, Dad? It has always been you and I against the world. We have so much left to do on our board.” With the last words leaving her lips that had parted gently, Anur closed her eyes and drifted into the night. Those words had now become like a lullaby that always cuddled her to sleep.
Anur roused before the break of dawn with a nagging headache. “3 am again?” she murmured. It was the third time in a row that she was awakened at the same time. She slowly walked to her living room, nearly tripping over several clutter. Just before walking into the kitchen for some water, Anur paused when a red light pulsating in the darkness crossed her view.
She walked to a large vision board in the living room. The vision board was Anur and her father's tradition ever since she was six years old.
“Dad? I also want to visit Disneyland, the Eiffel Tower, and the pyramids in Egypt.” Anur held on tight to her father's arm as they buried their feet in the warm beach sand.
“Woow sweety!” Her father fixed his glasses. “Why don't we make a little vision board where we can add all other ideas to them? Sounds great?” He rubbed Anur’s head who was now smiling.
Anur looked at the board that had gone from just little trips to the grocery store and park to a large detailed to-do list and plans of doing life together. She smiled at her fond memories. Her eyes fell on the little red light. She hadn't thought much of it the first time she saw it on a pin labeled ‘skydiving’ two days before. The previous night, the light pulsated on the drawing of a ship. Anur recalled how much her dad always talked about ships.
“One day, I'm going to go on a Ferry adventure, Nur.” Her father sipped from his coffee and sketched a tiny ship on the board.
Tonight, that little red light lingered again, this time, it rested on their favorite beach in the city. Anur pondered for a bit as she just stood there watching the vision board. Right there, she re-lived every smile shared, present opened, trip taken, and all the adventures she had ever shared with her father.
“Are you trying to tell me something, Dad?” Anur whispered. In her grief, Anur had taken an interest in reading about the afterlife and she was starting to convince herself that her father was still with her somehow.
She grabbed her phone and went back to bed. Anur began going through the photos in her gallery and the messages her father had sent her in the past. She scrolled through her call log. The night he passed in his sleep, she had missed his call. “Perhaps you wanted to say goodbye.” she sobbed as she rubbed her fingers against his name. Suddenly, a bird crashed into her window and Anur jumped. She ran to the window to find that the bird had fallen. “Poor thing.” She returned to her bed.
“Oh shit!” Anur quickly picked up her phone. She had dialed her father’s number by accident. She was about to hang up when she heard a slow breathing and then the sound of wind against a shore. Anur froze and she began trembling.
“He-hello?” Anur’s eyes darted from side to side. “Who is there?” she whispered.
“Hu-” A raspy tone occupied the other end of the call.
“Honey?” The voice softened into a tone Anur knew too well.
Anur felt her entire body turn cold. “Dad? This cannot be. Is this some sort of joke?” she blurted. “I am going to the police.”
“Wait, Nur!” He paused then chuckled. “You never knew how to take a joke. But this isn't a joke honey. Didn't you butt-dial me or something? I mean, I didn't think it was possible here.”
“Here? Where is here?” Anur was starting to feel like she was losing her mind. She pinched herself and ran her fingers through her hair.
“I'm not sure sweety. It just felt like waking up from a long dream into something familiar yet different. I'm at the beach now. Yesterday I was on a ferry and the day before, I went skydiving. Can you believe it?”
Anur looked at the vision board and the red light. “So you are not dead, Dad?” She waited anxiously for an answer.
“I am. But somehow, I'm here and I can't explain it. I am not lonely and I am not suffering but I miss you so much. People take turns coming here but it isn't your time sweety.” He paused. “Nur, you have a whole lot of adventure in front of you. Don't stop living. I didn't. I only passed. I love you honey but you've got to live first.” Another long pause followed. “And Nur, don't try to reach me. I'm not even sure how this happened. Promise me.”
Nur kept sobbing uncontrollably until the call went off. She looked at the screen with her heart pounding in her chest. It went blank at first then showed no call history. There wasn't a record of the call ever happening, yet the echoes of the wave still lingered in her heart.
“A place without suffering,” she muttered.
Her father was okay. Perhaps someday, she would be too.
It happens sometimes that way when someone thinks of his or her loved ones. Sometimes it would come just like a dream, whereas, it's not. It may even appear just like imagination but not it.
It's not easy taken off your loved ones from your memory
You are very right. That bond and connection often remain and sometimes, the lines between dreams, imagination, and reality get blurred.
Thanks for stopping.
This is a sad story. How do you get over the death of your loved one, especially if it is your father?
Are there signs from the afterlife?
Sometimes we feel that we connect with our loved ones, sometimes it only happens in dreams, but we experience it so real that it seems true.This may have been what happened to Nur, the desire to see him again.
Thanks for tagging me. I liked your story.
Thank you so much.
I wish I could tell you how to get over your grief. The truth is, it only gets better with time but it never leaves you. It often feels like a part of you goes with them.
I wish we could know if there were signs.
Truly, dreams have become like the only connection.
Thank you again.
The feeling of loss is very strong, we have learned to have a sense of belonging with everyone and everything and loss is always painful. Even more so when it is a loved one. When a loved one leaves, they take part of us with them and they leave part of themselves in our hearts.
I particularly think that someday we will meet our loved ones again, in that place where love is the main component.
I am convinced that we do have a relationship with the beyond, what happens is that we do not know or master these hidden truths.
What I can assure you is that writing our feelings releases a heavy burden from our being. It is as if you make a confession of sin.
I hope to continue reading your stories, please feel free to tag me when you write, so I can read you as soon as you do. thank you.
Thank you so much. This message right here has warmed my heart and lightened some of the weight.
I am going to start journaling everything I feel and see the Magic happen.
This is a sad story
I don’t think anyone gets to recover from the loss of losing a parent
No one!
No. I highly doubt it. It becomes your new reality. Thank you so stopping.
A melancholic story with many feelings floating in each line. The daughter's fervent desire to have her father by her side could have made that call, Maybe it was a longing of the heart or a cosmic connection.
Thanks for sharing your story with us.
Excellent Wednesday.
Thank you for stopping with amazing comments as always. I'm truly grateful.
Thank you so much.
What a moving story and an imaginative way to use the prompt...
Quite nice✨
Thank you so much, Seki