A Year after We Buried Him

If I could turn back time, I'd spent more time by his side. I wouldn't go travel around the globe but instead travel more to his place, sit by his side and spend hours and hours talking to him, just like the old days. I wouldn't dream that much but instead enjoy those moments more, the moments I looked into his eyes and walked hand in hand with him.

If I could turn back time, I'd listen to him more. I'd treasure the stories of his youth, the history of the family, the journey of his faith... things he's always loved to talk about.

If I could turn back time, I'd say those magic words more often. I'd tell him of how much he means to me, how much I want to always be his little girl, how much I'm proud of him, how much I love him. I'd tell him that he's the best any daughters can have in the whole universe.

But I can't turn back time. All I can do is to cherish the memory and to love the God he's loved so in his life.

Ah, if only he was here. He'd be thrilled to see his oldest son getting married next week. He'd be proud to find out the kind of woman that man of his own has chosen to be a wife. He'd be smiling all day, knowing that the man who bears his name will pass it on to his future children.

Ah, how I sometimes envy those people, those sons and daughters whose fathers are still around. How much I want to tell them how lucky they are... not that I'm not grateful for those colorful years God blessed me with his presence...

I know I can't turn back time nor can I bring him back. But I still wish he was here.