Yor Ryeter

[1: 1,727 of 10,000] My Dead Father Had Spoken

In Journal on June 19, 2016 at 12:00 AM

This year, we are to celebrate the 14th death anniversary of my father. I admire him when he was alive. I also get a little scared of him and ensured that whatever project that we do together must be perfect especially from the expected execution from my side. There are moments that I despised him so much. In several instances, I pitied him for being uneducated, alone, and too much of a dreamer who can’t make it happen. And then there is the reality that I loved him.

Last year, my dead father spoke with me through a medium. He apologised that he was not strong enough to take care of us and a mystery on the table that I go to Hong Kong and discover my roots, to learn about his grandfather (referring to my great grandfather), and write about our family’s damnation and yet bringing me in to possibly shed light in directions I could not possibly know right now.

I am never a fan of looking back, I always wanted to move forward, but there is a piece of me, just a flicker of fire that wanted to pursue this. My mother revealed a secret to me that my father once raped a woman, I don’t know if there’s really truth in that story, I never confronted my father as he was dead when my mother shared it. During the session with the medium, he shared the picture of my proud great grandfather riding his horse, there were misbehaviours, slavery, and the rape came out again.

opiumwars

Sex is pleasurable but whenever I see news about women that was brutally raped my heart protest for the injustice. How could they turn a love making into something disgusting by prying into the privacy of someone who is delicate! I know that I’ve always kept my distance from men, not even giving them the slightest indication that I wanted to be raped today to the extent that I am aware of my invisible space of not to be skin-closed to anyone I don’t like.

Is it true that my past is filled with terrors, a heavy stigma that I am possibly carrying that weighs me down? Is it just a pigment of my creative imagination to begin something for entertainment purposes? Is this too coincidental that I am being called to serve by combing an unpleasant past that I have not been privilege to witness? If I am to pursue, where will I begin? I suddenly just move to Hong Kong and faith would lead me?

I don’t know but if it was really my dead father speaking to me, I am indeed curious. How to act and move forward, I still don’t know.

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