I miss my dad so much, baby.

Minh họa: ĐẶNG HỒNG QUÂN — Illustration: DANG HONG QUAN

My father passed away 3 years ago, I thought I had run out of tears. But then one day, my husband went to work, ran to the end of the alley and immediately sent me a photo via Zalo. The photo was taken in a hurry while he was driving, so it was blurry. I asked him what he was taking? He said: "That's my father!". Just like that, my tears suddenly flowed like a stream.

The thin, small, white-haired man in the photo he took, his appearance and even his voice were exactly like my father's. His house was in the same neighborhood, right at the beginning of the alley, but I rarely saw him.

I go to work, come home late every night with a bunch of unnamed chores around the house so I almost never go out into the alleys to "chat" like other women.

I only met him once during the pandemic year, when we went to the alley entrance, which was still in the tense lockdown period - to receive COVID-19 support money. I still remember his thin but very agile gait, the gait of people used to manual labor.

At that time, everyone had to wear masks and keep their distance, but when I heard the uncle's voice answering the ward officer, my heart stopped. His voice sounded so much like my father's! I told my husband, and he nodded. In this world, people looking alike is a common thing. But he knew, deep down I missed my father.

The last time I visited a younger brother's house in Cu Chi. When I entered the house and met his father, I almost froze, feeling like I was standing in front of my own father. He looked just like my father, from his wrinkled smile to his gentle face, bright eyes, agile demeanor, white hair, and clear voice.

Unable to control my emotions, I asked my uncle and my younger brother to let me silently call him dad! I asked to take a picture with him. When I got home, I sent it to my younger brother, with the message: "I miss my dad so much, my dear!". Maybe my younger brother didn't know, but when I sent the message, I cried.

Many years have passed but that longing has never faded, although I always avoid mentioning it to be able to overcome the sadness. Behind me there is my family, and my young child, I am not allowed to collapse because of any sadness, I set myself such discipline and principles. But the heart has its own reasons.

Missing someone - especially missing the person you love the most in your life - cannot be forgotten, but it still appears fresh every time you meet someone who looks like your father.

Yesterday a friend posted a message that shocked me. He said he had just talked to his father yesterday, but this morning, he had flown away to heaven.

I am always afraid to read such silent and painful news, because I have been there. I also did not understand what was happening to me, when that afternoon I called my father to ask what to eat so I could cook and bring it to the hospital. My father's last meal was quietly spent with his younger brother, in the hospital, not a meal at home.

I don't know how to comfort my friend, other than the most common condolences. Because even a thousand words of comfort cannot soothe the longing that arose from that separation. That longing will last a long time...

Sometimes I will go through this life and still not stop missing.