Abida Mian's Blog

An outlier that's living, learning and being myself…

More flowers, lucky with friends…

Pink Flowers

About two weeks ago, I had the worst weekend. I listened to an old voice recording of my dad’s, and this wave of emotion just hit me. I eventually fell asleep but dreamt about him. I was a young child and we were solving quadratic equations, my dad had this blue book dedicated to parabolas and hyperbolas. I went to touch his face but I couldn’t reach him, then I just woke up at 4am. I had that blue book on my shelf (a happy memory from my time with him), and got out a pad and started going through the questions to see whether I could remember how to solve and create the graphs – it was like riding a bike, I remembered, dad would be so proud, I thought ūüôā

On the Monday morning, I went downstairs and at reception were these beautiful pink flowers for me. Richard (the porter) whom I’ve known for around 8 years, bought them for me and in his card wrote ‘thinking of you at this difficult time’. My eyes lit up, I told him that work bought me pink flowers and they made me smile, so he did the same thing. He understood what I was going through as he lost his father a few years ago. He also sent flowers and a card to my mum, as he’s very fond of her. I never thought a man could be that kind and thoughtful. He’s been incredibly supportive, to most other people I usually say that I’m ok, but with him I can open up and show my emotions, for someone like me that’s rare. I admitted to him that the one person that helped me through the grief was my baby nephew, I love him soo much, and that’s when I realised that I’m ready to have my own. Yes, they’re expensive and a burden, but they are worth all the hardship,¬†but now it’s¬†a¬†question¬†of finding a¬†decent guy to make them with.¬†Richard¬†described me as one of the nicest people he’s met, but that not many people would know¬†unless I go out and socialise more. You’d be surprised to learn you have your share of male¬†admirers¬†that ask me about you, even my daughter thinks you’re beautiful – that made me smile, Rich is such a lovely guy.

Then one of my best friends (who started off as my old uni lab partner) cancelled his plans to travel back to see his family, so that he could see me. As soon as I saw him, he just opened out his arms and let me cry all over his shirt. Then he gave me a bag full of DVDs of old classic childhood movies and microwave popcorn, and assured me that it was a gift to keep my mind occupied, and that I don’t have to return them – a joke, because after I split with a guy in the past, he asked me to post his DVDs back to him first-class, this time I didn’t have to worry ūüôā I never met any man¬†I would trust my life with apart from him, we will never be anything more than just best friends (bloody typical!), as he’s gay, but if I could describe the perfect personality then that would be his – we can chat for hours, never argue, and he’s never said anything offensive – surely an impossible task for a man ūüėČ

Another good friend invited me to stay with him and his wife, and a client at work offered to fly me out to their holiday home. All really kind gestures, but I need time alone to come to terms with my loss.

I was lucky to have had the chance to spend more time with my dad when he retired, as he worked abroad when I was growing up. I would write letters to him every week, then he bought me a typewriter. We would speak every Sunday without fail. The past couple of years, he was able to call me everyday. I miss that. I remember years ago, there was a client at work that was in his thirties whose wife died of cancer, leaving behind a small toddler for him to bring up. He sent me an email as he was having trouble with a leak to his flat, the person who’s job it was to get it fixed wouldn’t return his calls, he asked if I could help chase on his behalf. Although, it wasn’t my job, I felt a sense of compassion, this man was all set to embark on a life with his wife and child and it had been cruelly taken away, he had a stressful job, so having persuaded an ex-colleague to drive me to his flat, I took photos and then contacted the managing agents to organise for them to repair the damage, I then went back around to inspect that it had been done properly. He was very appreciative. I thought of him the other day, I can’t imagine what he must have gone through.

A colleague of mine said that in losing my father, I should use it to re-evaluate my life, that the one failing I have is relationships. It doesn’t matter what watch or car you have, it’s all bull s***, what matters is that¬†the people you love are with you at the end. People are more important than work, you need to switch off and open up more. He was right. The most priceless moment for me was the night before my dad passed away. I spent hours holding his hand, his eyes staring up straight at the ceiling, he couldn’t acknowledge me. I was extremely disappointed, as during those three weeks in intensive care, he was either heavily sedated (eyes closed) or eyes open but unaware of his surroundings. There were a few days which I missed when he was out of sedation and able to communicate through pen and paper, we kept his writings, first he wrote KFC (when I heard that it made me smile – sadly he wasn’t able to have one), then he wrote Pavg = VI cosŌÜ, to prove he was mentally still there (he was a power engineer). As I got up to wash my¬†hands and remove the apron, my brother was hovering over him and tried to stare directly into his eyes, by some miracle, he smiled at him and everyone was shouting to him Abi is here (they all think dad hung on in there to see me before he passed away), he turned around and smiled directly at me for a fraction of a second, then he was back to his original position staring at the ceiling. During that brief moment, I felt the pieces of my heart slowly beginning to mend.

Most people like talking about their emotions, but I find writing is cathartic, hence the long blog post. Based on getting older, life experiences, I’ve learnt something, I want to experience what my parents had, to love someone so much, that I’d want to be with them holding their hand until the end. It’s seems strange now that my dad has gone, I spent my life holding back on relationships because I was worried¬†that he¬†wouldn’t approve. I met someone a while ago and he ended up falling in love with me. I was cautious wanting to wait to see how things developed, but he didn’t want to be a secret, and gave me an ultimatum, either we get married or he walks away. He was offering me¬†a good life where I didn’t have to work and I’d want for nothing, but at the time my dad was ill, I had to put him first above my own happiness, in the process I ended up upsetting a genuinely nice guy, and took a hiatus from wanting to be with anyone thereafter. Now, I am able to move on and focus on me. In 2014, I’ve made a list of things I want to achieve: violin lessons (I was very good at school, but my dad thought it interfered with my studies, so gave it up), charity work (helping others makes you feel good), joining activity groups to meet more nice people. The most important one is wanting a family, the next person I meet will be the father of my children (fingers crossed). I’m not sure whether I’ve met him yet, either way I can’t wait…

Death comes to all of us; I have¬†an insatiable thirst for life, and don’t intend wasting a moment of it…

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