I’ve watched this movie half a dozen times, probably. Mostly, the two latest versions – one with Keira Knightly which is my favorite and the other the one with Alan Rickman, which I watched because of him particularly. But that is not why I am here now….
I know I haven’t been writing on my blog for so long…years probably, I’ve been intending to start writing again but time and all the distractions of life kept me from it. Especially now with this new profession I entered, barely have time for personal things much less pleasure such as what these blogs afford me. But now I have something to say, to express which I daresay Facebook or any other social media sites cannot offer.
As I earlier mentioned I have watched this movie and read the book several times but it is only now that it has affected me so deeply. There are circumstances in my life which changed my perspective about the story and which made me appreciate it even more. I am especially drawn towards the unique but very admirable relationship between Elizabeth Bennet and her father. She wasn’t the loveliest nor the liveliest and certainly she was very critical of their ways but she was her father’s favorite and so he allows her certain privileges her other sisters do not enjoy.
Their relationship hit me so hard this time, having lost my own father just a few weeks ago. I guess I haven’t stopped grieving, not you actually can stop grieving the lost of one so dear…but I haven’t cried as much as I needed to I guess. I have kept myself busy in order to keep my mind off things, but I think that was wrong. I feel guilty that I haven’t grieved my father’s lost enough…when my brother and sister cried their hearts out I tried to keep a straight face; when they spoke during our father’s internment I pretended to be busy with something so I wouldn’t have to go and say something, I know I wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face then; and his casket was being lowered in the grave, I felt numb all over and kept to myself. My husband being what he is, didn’t know how to help me either.
But what my brother said during the internment service was true, Papa had trouble expressing his affections, and so we, all three of us, inherited the same trait. It’s easy to write about it as I do not but expressing my emotions face to face, that’s the challenge. Oh we all know Papa loved, he showed us so in so many ways – not expressedly but suggestively. Papa worked his way to a comfortable life, he came to the city with no money and no connections but he able to make a good life for himself and his family. Both our parents were entrepreneur, but Papa having the luxury of managing his own time made sure that he is able to join us, his children, during meals. Mama showed her affections for us in a different way of course, and we never felt we were unloved or anything like so but Papa notably really made time for us. He would leave his tailoring shop at 11:30 AM so he could have lunch with whoever of us children were at home at the time and then around 1:00 PM he would return to his shop. He would be home again at 7:00 PM just in time for dinner and would stay with us the rest of the night. He would leave again after having breakfast with us the next day. That was his routine until he decided to retire 15 years ago, when my siblings and I were already established and have families of our own.
I guess Lizzie’s relationship with her father hit me so hard because I see myself in her. I have always been a Papa’s girl, though Papa never dictated our choices he would always have a strong opinion about them but with me he had always been very tolerant. Even to my choice of husband, in this way my husband was like Mr. Darcy though less privileged, people are wary of him because he, husband, have trouble socializing and he has trouble talking to people about mundane things or striking up a conversation. But Papa, understood all that. When my husband and I have issues, I know that it took Papa great efforts to approach me and just talk about it. He didn’t give any opinion about the issues we were having but he was just there so I can talk and in his unique way of doing he made me feel better and more confident about myself. And that another thing, Papa raised us to be proud of who were are, to be confident of our abilities and to have courage to take on any challenges – thus, people see us, siblings, as having very strong personalities and that was thanks to our father.
And I miss him so much. I live so close to my parents’ home that before I would often just pop into their house entering through the back door and say hello to him. Or find him on the terrace, wave up at him and ask him how his day have been or wave good bye as I leave for work or remind him not to stay too long in the terrace as it gets hot towards noon and that’s not good for his BP. Now, I can’t do that anymore…. What hurts me most was the last time I saw him – about a day before he had his cardiac arrest – I saw him sitting by the window and I went to him, we talked for a few minutes and I left because I needed to go to my own physical therapy. How I wished I had hugged him or kissed him before I left that day instead of simply squeezing his hand. I kissed him at the ICU, I wouldn’t hug him because of all the tubes in his body and the machine he was hooked on to, but I wonder even then if he would still hear me say that I love him or even feel my lips on his forehead.
Dear Papa, I miss you so much. I know that we’re all grown up and established now but I still miss your presence. For the first time my life I don’t have you, the one person I aim to always please and make proud. I do my best because I didn’t want to disappoint you; it makes me so happy to hear talk about our accomplishments to your friends and relatives and I miss hearing the genuine pride I hear as you tell your stories – how a simple man who only graduated six grade was able to establish himself and send all 3 of his children to respectable private schools. We were the first generation of college graduates from your side of the family and we will make sure that our children will be able to finish college too because we know it’s important to you. You have always regretted not being able to finish school but have we your children have always been proud of how much you’ve taught yourself. You have left us with the legacy of thirst for knowledge, the courage to persevere, and the give of faith that we all endeavor to pass on to our children and we will teach them to pass these on to their children and their children’s children as well. You were our bond Papa, and we will make sure that your passing will not draw us apart but will pull us closer. Rest now Papa, we miss you but we will carry on and we will take care of Mama for you. I love you Papa.