NyashaMayne | A Vancouver-based Lifestyle Blog.
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About me
About me
About me
Check out my latest posts.

Where: The Commodore Ballroom When: August 15, 2015 With his unique sound and gracious stage presence, he wowed us into submission! The soulful crooner serenaded us and boy did he bring the house down! Musiq...

I want you to appreciate the love that envelopes you daily. A parent's love knows no bounds and is infinite. Understand that you are important to them and no matter what transpires between you and them, their love for you never ends.
I’m not the first to lose a father, nor will I ever be the last. There is no way for me to discredit the intensity of such a loss [to you] because losing a parent … or anyone close is never easy. You feel it - grief - as much as you want, when you want and deal with it in your own way. And sometimes you just never deal with it at all. I feel that if you grew up not knowing your father and having that familial relationship, the loss you experienced from a very young age still resonates within you as an adult. While, the flip-side of that coin, is that if you grew up with your father and then lost him, you feel the loss just as much as that of the person who didn’t grow up with their father because we are human. Losing a parent is never easy and it is one of the hardest losses to come to terms with because while you knew you would bury them, you never thought that you would ever see that day anytime soon. I lost my father in 2002 when I was eleven (11) years old. For me, I didn’t really feel the loss until quite later in life when I began to really understand my feelings, and the numbness wore off. My emotions caught up with me the year that I lost my cousin, and it was only then, when I recollected the devastating news to my sister that she had passed that I felt overwhelmed with grief - not just for her, but for my father. I remember where I was and I remember the moments after as I gushed for air because the room was closing in on me. I felt this overwhelming sensation of hot air flood my whole body as I broke down in the pile of clean laundry. I cried. And cried some more. I was about seventeen (17) when the grief struck me and it was then that I understood what had happened and felt it all at once, despite the fact that people had sent their condolences years ago. Until then, I had never really mourned for my daddy; but it wasn’t because I didn’t miss him. When we were told the news, we were told to switch the TV off (we were watching Dark Angel) and asked to listen carefully. Even as we were told the news, I was so de-sensitized from it all and I didn’t really feel any sort of way. For years, even when I was going through counselling in high school, I still was very de-sensitized and numb from it all but I realize now that it was my way of coping. Everyone in my family grieved in their own way - but I, like my younger sister were quite de-sensitized at the time (and she still is). But in her defence, she was so young when we left Zimbabwe, that her memories of him are most likely just dreams or illusions of some sort. It's sad that she never got to really grow up with him and doesn't remember him as much or the person he was because he was such a great man. That's the truth of it all.