I was five or six years old. I remember that moment in time like it was yesterday. I wore a pink dress. It was the day you took me into a church, knelt in front of the altar and said “I promise to be a good daddy”. Took me a while to understand but I know now that you were the best father you knew how. I remember your love for animals. Tubby. Oh how you loved that cat. Lion Tub the floozy cat you called him. I remember how you randomly tested us on our multiplication tables. Our favourite was 12 x 12. You’d often catch us off guard. We never got it right but I remember the laughs that followed ‘ços you were the sparky in the family. I remember the visits to your work on Fridays. First stop was the café on the corner for the snowballs and milk. I can still taste it. It was my favourite day of the week. I remember our fishing trips to the harbour. Just U & I. There was I helping you cut up the sardine bait and threading it through the fish hooks. Hours by your side in silence so we didn’t disturb the fish. Or so you said. Our meal that night was always fresh shad.
I must’ve been 10 years old. We would discuss your favourite books. You’d send me off to the David Landau library every week to select a book for U & I. It was always a Western by Louis L’Amour for you. Little did you know that you gave me a precious gift back then. It was the love for reading and now writing. I remember the days I waited for you to come home so we could eat dinner together in our makeshift room/kitchen. You always shared something from your plate with me. It’s how you showed your love. I remember our long philosophical conversations on life, people and the ways of the world. You always just listened on my weird take on life. A few months ago during one of those convos you said I was the most intelligent of your children. It blew my mind when you said that Dad. I bet you said that to all your kids didn’t you Dad? You listened. That’s what matters.
I remember the name of that book you so wanted to write, titled “Snakes and Ladders”. I remember your love for Mahatma Gandhi. We all remember. You lived to live his principles. I remember your first printing press, smack bang in the middle of your bedroom. How you toiled day and night. You were so proud to be a Printer. They called you Amigo at work you said. You were the best there was in your field. <.P I remember the stories you shared about you and mommy. I’m so sure she too is by your side together with Vimla, your second born. So envious right now Dad! You have two beautiful souls right next to you. Please tell my sister and mom I love and miss them too.
Sweet precious memories. Memories nobody can take away. Not.one.living.soul.
You gifted me this life. I am your first born. Nothing of nobody will ever change that. We both shared the same LifePath number 9. I will continue to walk its path. You gave me the opportunity to be on this planet right here and now. One of THE most crucial and beautiful times our planet and Consciousness could ever experience. I’m here because of U. You gifted my soul an opportunity to experience this life here, to heal lifetimes of whatever. The details are not important. What is, is that it was YOU who gave me this opportunity to get it right this lifetime, my last lifetime. Thank you Daddy. You gave me the gift of Love & Light, in your own way.
You taught me that family doesn’t always have to live together to be a family. You taught me that family is in where the heart is. You also taught me that family can be your friends. You taught me that I had to stand up and step up if I wanted to own that gift of Love and Light. So I could share it with the world one day. You taught me that I am stronger than I knew. You taught me how to fight for what I wanted and if it was not meant for me doesn’t mean I didn’t deserve it. It just meant there was a better tomorrow. You did that and I will remember the lessons.
I remember the day we created this here set. You chose every song and even directed where each track be placed. Now I know why you chose these specific songs. You love was too big for the painful world you were immersed in. Way too big.
Today I present to the world a father/daughter music collaboration, “Snakes & Ladders” in tribute and celebration of your life. Not for anyone but YOU. Your life was not in vain.
The last time I seen your face you were lying in a hospital bed. I kissed your cheek and my last words to you were “Ï love you dad” and I meant it. Today I choose to remember you with Love. Thank you for being my father. May your soul rest peacefully in the arms of Jesus finally and may that peace be yours for eternity.
I’m reminded of the verse in the bible, Revelation 14:1 “Then I looked, and behold, on Mount Zion stood the Lamb, and with him 144,000 who had his name and his Father's name written on their foreheads.
12 x 12 is 144 Dad. 144.
Sharmla & Kamla Pillay 24 November 2017