Unfortunate events

For years I’ve always wondered out of curiosity what life Would have been like if you were still alive, would I have achieved everything I have achieved, Would I have been a different person then I am today? Would you be proud of me? For years I’ve always questioned myself.

I remember the day of your funeral as clear as day, it’s sunny the birds were chirping. Its was a lovely day to go fishing down by the river, not at all the funeral weather. I was only 4 years old, I was taking a nap at gluggy (Gradnfather) Billy & Ogee (Grandmother) Patsy house, I remember seeing my mother’s face she was very sad, heart broken and stressed all at the same time. She said I had to get ready in a distraught tone, as I was still dazed from my afternoon nap wondering in confusion why were she so upset and what am I’m getting ready for? She came back with a towel and my clothes for the event which was a black pants and white shirt, I was still very curious about why is everyone rushing around in a distraught manner. We got into a car to make our way to the cemetery, I noticed that my brother’s Imran & Lezroe weren’t with us. We got there, which there was a lot of people they were all crying, I still wasn’t sure in what was happening we were standing by two very large holes 6 feet down 3 meters apart. It’s very uncomfortable for everyone here. I could see a man in Cuffs and green clothing even the shoes were green there were two policemen holding the man, the man was my uncle Adrian my father did not like him! He would call our home landline and I remember my father yelling out to my mother, he would yell out “Bib don’t let these kids answer the phone” I wasn’t sure why my father didn’t like his older brother. That still remains unknown.

Then I see two very large boxes being carried, 3 men on each side, they were bringing the boxes towards the holes, and started lowering the coffins into the ground everyone began to cry and progressively getting louder and louder, as I stood there empathising everyone’s emotions, I started crying. I can see my mother she has my baby Brother Lezroe and a towel wiping her tears as my Aunty Vanessa try to comfort her. Me still confused as to what’s happening, not knowing my father was in one of those large black box and that it was the very last time I get to see him, as the afternoon goes on, the bouquets of flowers, bowing down in submission and fatigue on the graves, the sky starts to get darker Progressively changing from warm colours to cool colours in shades, people slowly disappearing and it’s finally quiet again. I was very close with my father, the apple of his eyes. Afternoon bike rides were mandatory for us both, One day we went for our traditional afternoon cycle, my seating spot was the handle bar, we were on the road as I look to my left I see Looma Community School with boys and girls playing football, As I remember looking down to the bike wheel pondering what would happen if I would rest my little foot on the wheel while rolling, Then there I go falling in what I remember in slow motion and hit my head on the road, my father started to panic with tears filling his eyes quiet quickly, because I spilt my head to when it began to bleed out as it drips from my head down my small little precious face, he rushed me home to my mother trying to explain what had happened, I had a concussion but my mother would never let me fall asleep, my mother is very kind, compassionate and loving she was our natural medicine, this is something I will never forget, she always use to say “Nothing beats a mother’s touch” and every time she would hold me, nurture me and put her soft hand on my forehead I would instantly feel cured with a sigh of relief knowing this beautiful woman is my mother.

Two days has passed from when the funeral took place, I kept asking my mother “When is dad coming back”

My mother had to really explain what had happened and that my father was never coming back. My mother said “Dad is an angel now and he’s gone to heaven, he’s not coming back but he’s looking down on us”

My 4 year old heart was shattered and I came to my senses realising that I will never ever see him again, I entereted my grandmothers room her name is Rena, she was not present or aware that in was in there. My father forgave her for leaving him at birth at King Edwards Hospital Perth.

Dwelling and sympathising on this new emotion knowing my father was no longer with us physically, my grandmother had a old CD player, my father loved to sing and play his guitar he made a recording at the moon rise festival in Derby, As I placed the CD disc in the CD player to hear his voice I burst out in tears and kept saying “Dad please come back to us” repeatedly, I think I cried until I passed out.