I still hope…

I had this strange daydream that just randomly came to me, without any force or input.

It was a daydream of me and my dad, Mizan.

In this daydream, we were outside the farm that I live at. We were sitting on a bench with a direct front view of the beautiful hills. It was a chilly day, so we both had puffer coats and were wrapped up warm. And it was the start of reconnecting and rekindling the estranged, broken relationship after many years.

And then he turns to me and asks,
“So how come you’re not having kids?”

And took a deep breath and say:

“Well, when I was a child, all I ever felt was how unloved I was and how I didn’t matter, so if I had a child, I don’t know how I would give them love.”

Mizan just sits there. Quiet. Listening. Completely still. I didn’t know how to take his reaction, because if you knew anything about him, you would know that in reality we’d never be in this position.

The position of feeling safe enough to let him back into my life, to start building a relationship we never even had.

And being completely stricken on him asking a very important questions about me, that’s not the person I known him as in my life.

And so when I snapped out of this daydream and carried on with whatever I usually think of, work, the million and one things that I had to do. But coming back to this daydream. Because I wanted it to be true, so desperately.

Mizan achknowledging me and the pain that I carry….

So I turned to my husband one night and told him about the daydream, in the hopes that he’d say, “Maybe you dreamt that because it’s possible – that is within Mizan.”

But instead, my husband rubbed my shoulder and had that look on his face and said,

“That wasn’t your dad. That was you. Parenting yourself… through him.”

Even though he is probably right, it wasn’t him,

But I can’t bring myself to believe that wasn’t him, so I will hope that is still possible….