Collecting selfies // Being me in front of my father

In the days after my dad’s passing I felt so much, all of my emotions at once that somehow it was incredibly easy to know my needs. What do I want to do now, what is that for sure I won’t do, who do I have time for, what is the topic I want to talk about and what is completely irrelevant. 

I truly appreciated this newfound strength of clarity. I sort of wished every day would be like this that I am completely sure on how to spend it and whom to spend it with. It brought me to forests and into cuddles on the couch, we went cycling in the cold winter weather and for walks around the block. I just knew what I needed and could decide for it with 100% certainty. 

Every time I went somewhere I checked in with my father. Me who never sent selfies, started collecting them, as if I would send them to say ‘hi’ from another lovely adventure. There was some remorse that I haven’t done before, that I haven’t sent many pictures about what’s going on in my life but it didn’t matter anymore. Also, I knew that the main message arrived to him through and through: that we loved each other dearly and nothing else mattered for us. 

And so the selfies remained my little check-ins, like saying ‘Hi, dad, see I’m listening, I’m actually listening to myself and doing all the good stuff’. Suddenly I felt no pressure taking these selfies, it was for him and not for the world. I didn’t need to be all sorts of things at the same time, I only needed to be me. For my dad. Because he saw me at the end of his life as this complete and complex woman that stands right before the selfie camera just like this. As a matter of fact.