Darling, Clementine

2| A Parentless Child

The cold air bitterly latched onto my skin as I walked into the church, the soft melody of the piano beginning to play as the harmony washed through the room. The raindrops tapped against the window like a hushed drum as the soft clapping of the fire-lit candles echoed in the quiet room. The pews were full of hundreds of people who looked at me with apologetic eyes and mouths bleached with sympathy. They followed my figure as I drew closer and closer to the black coffin labeled with the heart-clinching name that brought even the strongest of men to tears.

My eyes looked everywhere but straight, for I knew what was ahead. I knew that if I looked, I'd finally have to come to terms with it being the last time I'd ever see him again. My heart cracked with every creaking step. Memories of my childhood flooded my mind, memories of excitement and joy. I remember being chased around the kitchen by my dad and threatened with a tickle attack. I remembered the smell of brownies baking in the oven and the sound of eggs cracking against the side of a bowl under my father's watchful eye. And I remembered watching scary movies on Halloween, my father's large arms wrapped around me in comfort, protecting me from everything.

But now, all those memories felt distant, like they belonged to someone else. The memories of watching him become skinnier and weaker with every passing day flooded my thoughts. The mere memory of eating my birthday cake in that hospital room that stunk of sorrow, depression, and loathes, as each passing bite brought my eyes closer to crying a river of tears and my heart closer to breaking for the hundredth time. With every passing moment spent by his side, a nagging question consistently surfaced in my mind. Why him? And why not me?

I was the girl who never seemed to appreciate anything, no matter how big or small. I was the girl who had bawled her eyes out when she couldn't have her tenth birthday party at Chucky Cheese. I was the girl who kept her true feelings buried deep inside and never mustered up the courage to tell him. "I love you" until I found him breathlessly staring up into the white ceiling with one simpler tear shed across his beautiful face. I didn't tell him I was grateful for everything he blessed me with - the food, clothing, money, and most of all, the undying love he has for me. Or should I say had... for me.

I felt as though my throat had been forced shut, allowing no air circulation to seep through. I couldn't breathe. My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears that it was almost deafening. I fought back the tears that threatened to spill over and tried to remain composed. 'Be strong, Clementine,' I repeated to myself like a mantra, but the words felt hollow, like an empty promise. The concept of strength had become foreign to me, obscured by all the platitudes about self-love and resilience. Ever since my mother left, I had struggled to keep myself together, to maintain some semblance of normalcy. But today, at this moment, it felt like the weight of my emotions had finally caught up with me.

I stopped walking, finally standing next to Dad's emotionless and motionless body. Gazing upon him brings me back to the vivid memory of the time i was cradled in his loving arms after I had scored my first soccer goal. I recall the toothless smile I beamed at him in adoration. But today, that smile has been replaced by a look of self-loathing, anger, and profound sadness. I yearned to reach out and touch his hand in the hope of rekindling the warmth of our bond, but instead, I met an icy coldness that left me feeling utterly alone.

The words kept echoing in my head like an endless loop. I pleaded for my dad to wake up and come back to me. The storm of emotions raged on inside me, twisting and turning like a turbulent sea. I could solemnly hold on and hope for a safe harbor to dock my emotional ship. I lowered my head to his large hands, placing a small kiss on them. I paused. And I waited. But alas, this wasn't some cheerful Disney movie where you kiss or hug your beloved in hopes of bringing them back to life. I was in a place where dreams lay awake in my imagination, but it was time to wake up to the reality of being a mother and fatherless child. A parentless child.