The Birthday Call I Can No Longer Make

It’s my father’s birthday today.

I would have picked up my phone to call him and wish him a happy birthday. Texting wouldn’t work because that man saw messages late and would respond even later.

The call would have probably gone something like this;

Yesss Daddy, unjani?

Yes Fi! Kunjan khonangapho

KuRight, bengfunu’kuthi happy birthday

Thank you! Thank you! Yah iyakhula indoda

Yoooh how I miss that man! Excuse me while I go cry for a second.

Grief doesn’t always announce itself loudly. Sometimes it arrives as a date on the calendar. A date like today’s, a birthday. A memory. A deep wish to pick up the phone and look up for a contact saved as ‘Mr Father’ (with a red heart) as I had dearly saved him for years.  

Side note: if you’ve lost someone very close to you, do you still have their number saved in your phone or you intentionally deleted it?

Anyway, many moons ago, on this blog, I wrote about my father, a tribute for father’s day and what he meant to me. Today feels like the right day to share those words again.

Also, reading my words from those years ago was cringe but had a whole lot of love for a man I called father.

Read here: https://fikilenomadlozi.co.zw/2020/06/21/an-open-letter-to-my-father/

Love & light 🧡