musings of a goddazz

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Bittersweet...

My cousin tied the knot today, the first to get married in the family and rightly, an occasion for great joy. It was a simple, elegant and moving affair. I arrived at Sentosa's Beaufort Hotel at 9am and began helping to scatter flowers and petals to line the red carpet along which the bride and groom would walk to their solemnisation. It was hot in this little garden called the Cinnamon/Ginger Terrace and as I bent to perform my delicate act, I was soon perspiring profusely. Thankfully my makeup didn't melt (this is MAC, originally created for the stage and meant to withstand heat, light and sweat of course) as I did my calf stretching "morning exercise". It felt great to be doing this for her as she is a wonderful person and my heart raced with anticipation as the "I do" drew closer.

And so the hour arrived. She looked perfect, radiant in an elegant white backless gown which showed off her svelte figure, nothing like some brides who don't even look like themselves because they've undergone some extreme makeover. The groom looked energetic, happy and at ease. But as soon as she walked along the red carpet with her arm tucked under her dad's, my tears started to well. They were tears of joy, for this jie jie whom I looked up to as a child and still look up to, but also tears of sadness.

For most who do not know, this day is especially poignant as exactly six years ago, my dad left this earth at the stroke of midnight. I do not wish to go into the details, but suffice to say it was sudden and that my family accepted it, dealing well with his departure with the grace of God. I realised then that that beautiful picture of cousin and my uncle would never come true for me. For one thing, I do not even know if and when that day will come. I haven't found the right one yet but am hopeful. And if that day does come, who will give me away? No uncle would do, as of course, no one can replace that very special place that my dad has in my heart. We had a very special relationship--we learnt how to sail together, shopped for clothes for me, had coffee in Starbucks, watched musicals and plays and talked about the affairs of the world with relish. And I was Daddy's little girl in every sense of the word. When Mum wanted her way, she would always go through me.

Even though none of that exists now, I thank God for my dad and the precious time we had together. Soon after his passing, I was determined to celebrate his life in mine, to always live out the things he stood for--youthfulness (he thought nothing of learning how to roller blade, wearing funky tees and even contemplated having a ponytail at age 40+), vitality, passion, dreaminess, uniqueness, style, adventure, love for nature (he would wait for painfully shy penguins to appear, even if they took forever, just to see them in their natural habitat) and more. I am glad to say I have done him proud as I always have, and will continue to do so. But as my heart beat with joy for my cousin, it also ached with great sadness, for the dad I will always miss, for the beautiful scene that will never happen. The tears fell heavier and faster when my uncle ended his speech with a word to the groom to "please take care of her, we love her very much". It was the first time I had seen him cry and I knew my dad would do the same if he were alive. He always has a soft spot for me.

But I can take comfort in the fact that dad is in a better place, a place even more beautiful than the human mind can imagine. He is looking down at me every day, and liking very much what he sees. He is alive not just in heaven but here; his blood and spirit rushes through my veins. And the things he didn't get to do on this earth are accomplished through me. So now I smile, thinking of his pride for his little girl, and truly happy for cousin and her hubby JJ, who really make a smashing pair. Cheers to the happy couple, and to my dad. To the coolest, sweetest, funkiest dad on earth... you ROCK my world!