Dear Dad...

So, I'm going to be doing this journal/diary thing of memories I've had with my dad. Each will be around 1-2 pages long >.<

I'm doing this so I won't won't forget my dad as I grow up. Memory fades so I will do this help remind me when I forget.

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Dear Dad, 

Remember when we went to Barnes and Noble to get my NookColor? Well I do. You were yelling at me because I got that expensive cover for it. C: You were just as excited for it as me. Dad, I miss you like crazy. Sometimes I feel like it's my fault that you're dead. I used to have a diary a few years ago. I remember wishing you dead several times. I guess that one saying is right. When they say be careful what you wish for.

I know everyone will tell me it's not my fault. But really, how do they know? You're dead. You can't contact them. It really annoys me when people say things like that. How would they know? Huh? For all we know, you could have been killed by me...

I have no trust in God anymore. Things in our life were finally getting better. Our new house was almost perfect. You were making more money. Home life was just perfect. And then, you go to India...And die nonetheless. I blame God and myself. It's not fair. Ashleen's barely going to remember you now as she grows up. She's only 7.

I still can't believe it's going to be 2 months tomorrow. I wish I talked to you the day before you died. I remember faking to be asleep so I wouldn't have to talk to anyone. Gosh, I regret that so much now. I cling to all my memories of hearing you're voice. I have no recent pictures with you. The most recent one is from 2 years ago.

The day we dropped you off at the San Fransisco International Airport, I kept getting these weird pangs in my heart as we were driving back home. As if something bad was going to happen. I guess that feeling was right. 

There are times when I just feel like screaming at everyone. They don't see how bad I'm hurting. I'm dead inside. I'm not even happy. I'm clinically depressed. No therapy will help me. Nothing will. I don't see a reason to living life anymore. Going to school, get a job, get a job, raise a family, and then live with your spouse until you die. What if inbetween those times, my husband dies? No point in finding love if they're just going to leave you. No point at all.

I like to believe you aren't dead. Just on a long vacation. Knowing you'll never come back kills me. I can't handle that pain at all. I'll crumble if I realize it. Creating this reality helps me live on. Normally as much as I can.

Your face is still fresh in my memory. You smiling and waving at us at the departure gate. It's not fair. You were 41. Your health was fine. Everything was fine. Yet still.

I cry as I write this. I'll try to write things about you everyday, including my feelings and thoughts. Hopefully you're reading this somewhere. I know it doesn't make much sense but this is how I am. I have no will to write my stories at all. I'm brain-dead with those. I don't even know if I'll be able to continue writing those.

I love you Dad. Forever and always <3

Your depressed daughter,

Jasmeen Dhillon