THREE MONTHS GONE, DADDY, BUT THE PAIN STILL FEELS NEW

Daddy, today makes it exactly three months since you left for Lagos, telling us you would be back on Sunday.

We said goodbye to you and wished you a safe journey, never knowing that we were saying our final goodbye.

You landed safely and sent me a message saying, “I have landed.”

I thanked God for journey mercies.

Little did I know that those would be the last words I would ever receive from you.

I came back from school run and saw your missed call. I called you back, but you didn’t answer.

I called again.

And again.

I kept wondering why you weren’t picking up because that was so unlike you.

Alina even dropped a voice note for you, Daddy. Till today, you have not listened to it.

Then came the news that shattered my world.

The news of your death.

Daddy, I was completely dumbfounded.

I refused to believe it.

I prayed for a miracle.

I kept hoping someone would tell me it wasn’t true. I kept believing that somehow, somehow, you would come back.

You left home healthy, strong, and full of life.

But they brought you back lifeless.

How do I explain that?

How do I accept it?

I didn’t believe it until I saw your lifeless body lying on that stretcher.

Daddy, seeing you like that broke something inside me that I don’t know how to fix.

Jesus, this is still so hard to believe.

Three months have passed, but my heart is still asking:

How? Why?

YOUR GIRLS ARE BROKEN, DADDY

Your girls are broken.

Mummy is broken.

And I don’t know how to make any of us whole again.

Alina keeps asking, “When is Daddy coming back?”

She keeps asking me to call you on the phone.

She tells me to call Daddy because she wants to go to the playground.

She asks me to call you to buy her pizza and cake.

Daddy, what do I tell her?

What do I tell your girls when they look at me with their innocent faces, hoping I will tell them that Daddy is alive and will come back as usual?

How do I explain to Alina that Daddy is not coming back?

It hurts so much watching them grow without you physically here.

It hurts knowing that you will miss their laughter, their milestones, their birthdays, their little achievements, and all those beautiful moments you should have shared with them.

There are so many memories yet to be made.

So many things you should have witnessed.

So many moments when they will instinctively look around for their daddy.

And you won’t be there.

That reality hurts more than words can express.

MUMMY IS TRYING TO BE STRONG

And Daddy, Mummy is broken too.

She’s not finding it easy to believe that you’re really gone.

She is trying to be strong, but I know deep inside her heart, she is hurting in ways words cannot describe.

She lost her husband.

Her companion.

Her best friend.

The person she shared so many years of life with.

Daddy, the house may look the same, but everything feels different without you.

Your absence is everywhere.

Sometimes I look at Mummy and my heart breaks all over again because I know she is carrying a pain that no words can take away.

I wish you were here to comfort her.

I wish you were here to tell her everything would be okay.

I wish you were here to sit beside her, talk to her, and make her laugh again.

But all we have now are memories.

THREE MONTHS, BUT IT STILL FEELS LIKE YESTERDAY

Daddy, your absence is a pain that words cannot explain.

There is a silence where your voice used to be.

There is an emptiness where your presence used to fill the room.

There is a vacuum in our lives that nobody can fill.

Three months, Daddy.

And it still feels like yesterday.

Sometimes I still expect to see your call.

Sometimes I still want to call you.

Sometimes I still catch myself thinking:

“Daddy will soon come back.”

Then reality hits me all over again.

And my heart breaks afresh.

I wish I could hear your voice one more time.

I wish I could see your smile one more time.

I wish I could hug you one more time.

I wish that last goodbye wasn’t really goodbye.

WE MISS YOU EVERY DAY

Daddy, we miss you beyond words.

Your girls miss you.

Mummy misses you.

I miss you.

We all miss you.

Your absence is felt every single day.

There are moments when we laugh, and then suddenly remember that you are no longer here to laugh with us.

There are moments when something happens and we instinctively want to tell you.

Then we remember.

And the pain returns.

The vacuum is still empty, Daddy.

And no matter how much time passes, nothing will ever change the fact that you were deeply loved and that you will forever be missed.

You were more than a father.

You were a husband.

A friend.

A protector.

A source of joy.

A home to the people who loved you.

Your physical presence may be gone, but your love remains in the lives you touched and in the beautiful memories you left behind.

Rest on, Daddy.

Until we meet again, keep watching over us.

Keep watching over your girls.

Keep watching over Mummy.

And know that every single day, we carry your memory with us.

You will forever live in our hearts.

Three months gone, Daddy, but the pain still feels new.

Rest peacefully until we meet again. 🕊️❤️