If you want to understand how to become better allies to people with disabilities, then join us at Embracing All Abilities: Including People with Disabilities at Work.
On Father's Day, a daughter-in-law writes a poignant letter to her father-in-law who is no more. She misses her for being the father figure that he was.
On Father’s Day, a daughter-in-law writes a poignant letter to her father-in-law who is no more. She misses him for being the father figure that he was.
Dear Papa,
Sorry, it took me so long to write this letter.
My earliest memory of you goes back to when I was 9 years old. That one moment is still so alive in memory. One day, I fell in school and hit my head. My teachers wanted to take me to some good doctor but I was so adamant that I wanted to be treated by my Doctor Uncle only. I always thought you had some magic wand that cured and healed me every time without any pain.
You were not just my father’s friend or our Doctor but you were my Doctor Uncle, my guide and philosopher. Whenever I used to cry or get down with illness, you just didn’t provide the medical aid but also the words of wisdom and strength to infuse me with courage and knowledge, to not to bow down but to face the adversity head-on. I appreciate everything you did for my education and career, like my own father. You were always available to counsel me and clear my doubts. I think I am one lucky daughter-in-law who possesses wonderful childhood memories with her father-in-law.
The universe conspired in my favour and I got married to your son and became part of your family. Like any other young woman, after marriage, there had been some significant changes in my life too. But the best part was, that your affection never changed, you remained the same. In fact, papa in the new house, in the new family if I ever had any doubt, it was you I used to seek advice from. After your son and I moved to Europe to begin our family life you were more excited and happy than us.
When I used to call you from there, you never asked me if I was taking good care of your son, rather you were always concerned about my career and health in the new country. You encouraged me to work towards my passion for writing and developing my own personality and not just limit myself trying to be a good homemaker and a wife. From Doctor Uncle you became my Doctor Papa.
When we had just begun to make memories as a family, God called you. On 26 August 2018, we lost you. Papa, home is not home without you. I wish I could see you one more time, walking through the door to hug us. I would have come to you to say so many things that I had always wanted to say, but never could. Those unspoken feelings and unsaid words rumble inside me.
As your daughter in law, I want to share with you those feelings which clutch my heart.
Firstly, I never got a chance to show my gratitude to you for teaching your son so well while he was young, to be a perfect gentleman one day. He is totally like you. He adores me and values me exactly the way you loved my mother-in-law. Every day, when he gets ready for his office and looks himself in the mirror he says “I wanna be like my dad” and I heartily wish that his wish comes true.
Secondly, this one sad thought disturbs me, that one day when son and I will have kids, you will not be around. My future kids have missed the opportunity to grow up in the guidance and love of a truly grand grandfather. I am worried if we would be able to pass on the knowledge and experiences, we learnt from you to the next generation, without you. But, I promise papa, I will pass on your memories, stories of your life and your words of wisdom to your grandchildren. I will teach them diligently to keep the legacy of integrity, honesty and humbleness alive.
Thirdly, you will be proud that I have really become a stronger person as you always wanted me to be and have started taking my passion for writing seriously, as a blogger. But, yes I miss my biggest fan and guide.
You will always be our superhero. The hardest part I think, was not the goodbye but to learn to live without you, while making futile efforts of filling your void. You will always live inside us and very close to our hearts. We all love you and miss you so much. I cherish all our memories of the past but, I at the same time I feel sad that we cannot make any new memories with you.
I know you are watching over us!
Your daughter Kukku
All images are the author’s own
First published here.
I am a Stay-At-Home-Wife and a dog-mom. Little girl who always believed in fairy-tales grown up to be a woman who is now living one of her own. The main read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
Yuvaraj Shele, a small-time worker from Kolhapur, Maharashtra, did battle many odds and arranged for his mother Ratna’s wedding a few weeks ago. The main point that he put forth was that he felt his mother was lonely and saw the need for her to live happily.
A myth that goes without saying is that only a woman can understand another woman better. What happens when a man does understand what a woman goes through? Especially when the woman is his mother, that too when she is a widow?
This scene does remind of a few movies/web series where the daughter/son do realize their mother’s emotions and towards the end, they approve of their new relationship.
Just because they are married a husband isn’t entitled to be violent to his wife. Just because a man is "in love" with a woman, it doesn't give him a right to be violent.
Trigger Warning: This speaks of graphic details of violence against women and may be triggering for survivors.
Anger is a basic human emotion, just like happiness or being sad. One chooses his/her way of expressing that emotion. It is safe until that action stays within oneself.
What happens when that feeling is forced upon another? The former becomes the perpetrator, and the latter turns out to be the victim.
Please enter your email address