So. Came back from two weeks in Malaysia.
You’ll notice I don’t really talk about going away before I go away. That’s so no one comes round to burgle our house. Not that I’m paranoid.
Malaysia was great though. Got to see most of the family, ate out lots, watched my mum buy many many pairs of shoes, ate some more, carried a lot of shopping and generally had good times all round. I still don’t understand how anyone can just buy 8 pairs of shoes over the course of 10 days. The idea just boggles me.
I’m not much of a shoe buying person. I buy shoes when I need them, not just because they’re on sale and because of the exchange rate/cost of living…they also are really really cheap. I don’t get it.
One thing that’s annoying about Malaysia is the difficulty I have buying clothes there. I do understand that one though. It’s because I’m twice the size of most of my female relatives and they’re pretty much the average size of ladies in Malaysia. Meh.
Last month it was two years since my Dad passed away. It’s hard to imagine that so much time has passed, when at the same time it feels like so little. Sometimes it still feels like he could be sitting downstairs listening to his music with headphones on and it feels a little weird when I do go downstairs for whatever reason to find that it’s dark and he’s not there. Plus, of course, if he was listening to music on his headphones? I would have been able to hear it upstairs.
I don’t think it really gets any easier, but you just get used to it more.
There are so many things that have happened in the last two years that make me think of my dad – like going on holiday with mum and thinking that he would have liked to see those places. Or going to see bands! I really got into The Gaslight Anthem a few months after he passed away and whenever I listen to their music, I am struck every time by the thought that he would really have liked it. He would have enjoyed going to see them live with me (rather than gone to a gig and thought they were merely “OK” like with AFI). I’ve considered getting a tattoo for the last like… ten years (it’s the kind of permanent decision I won’t rush into) and my dad always said to me “When you go and get one, let me know and I’ll come get one too.” This won’t even happen now but I’ve thought about it a lot recently since I’ve mostly likely settled on what I’d like etch indelibly on my person now.
I’m getting used to it yeah, and it feels more real, but it’s never going to be easy.