I opened my eyes today from a very terrible dreams. During the mist of finding the lover that I hope for ( through various means), I wanted to visit my father’s farm and his room in order to find clarity in the mind. I’ve never seen this structure before, nor it existed in real life. But it seems like I’ve stayed here multiple times when I went to visit my father.

It was a 2 stories “nhà lá”, as simple as it could be. I mean just the 4 walls, the mattress to lie down and that was it. Father lived in the below house, and I stayed in the next door on the top floor for visitor. I visited the house, knowing that my father is not alive, I just want to see the things he left behind, or to just be in his home, feeling his presence. When I arrived, I found out that his worker has cleaned of his things, the bedside table where he kept his belongings, the small table to sit on the floor is gone. The room only has the mattress left, which is, just as similar to any other room, there’s nothing more special about it.

I asked the girl : “Sao chị dọn đồ của ba mà không nói em? Mình còn quá trời phòng trống mà sao chị dọn đồ của bà làm chi vậy chị”. I was not angry, it was not an angry voice I was asking, but a pleading 🥺 voice. I knew this days would come, but it’s hurt, a lot. I ran out to the back, and just cry, and be sad for awhile.

I woke up, feeling dreadful. Tears are keeping on rolling uncontrollably on my face. I haven’t been like this for a very long time, the pain was really hard to bear. The last time I was like this was when I woke up during a mid day nap right next to Camel, I was dreaming of father and then I tried really hard to control it because I don’t want to be so traumatised, Camel never like expression of emotion. I told myself to not cry but to my best, I can only hold my breath to not make a sound, and tears are just rolling. Today, I had the liberty to cry as much as I can, with the comfort of my 2 dogs. I feel this excruciating pain in my chest, it was as if somebody is trying to crush my chest bone. It was painful and hard to breath.

The feeling was so heavy, so dreadful that even though I woke up early, I knew I couldn’t bring myself to exercise today. I just left my bed actually, I woke up and shut the curtain, curl myself in bed and couldn’t find any energy to sit up. It’s 10:30 AM and I can’t find anything better to do than to sit here and write this note.

You are the true master of death, because the true master does not seek to run away from Death. He accepts that he must die, and understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying

Albus Dumbledore

I’m not sure whether it was because I’ve been reading Harry Potter to the scene where Dumbledore has died, or it was because my father’s death anniversary is approaching. Nevertheless, I think it’s clear that my mind has not been letting go of my father. That when push comes to shoves, I always found comfort in him, maybe because I have nowhere else to turn to. My heart is sinking to the bottom of my stomach as I was typing these letters out.

As you probably know now, I’m a visual person, and extremely drawn to sci-fi and magical world, well to all kind of fictions to be exact. I read novels, imagine the world they were in, I knew how they look, what they like, I feel their pain, and their sorrows. Every time I read a novel, I live and let live in a total different world. The more imaginative it is, the more disconnect I am with the outside world.

I am also a dreamer, I believe in the goodness of people. I believe that for all of the bad outcome, there’s always one good one that I can take out of it. Therefore, I don’t like to read novel with bad endings, because it will make me really sad 😔 for a couple days. It’s so funny to say, but I usually read the endings first to make sure it’s a good one before I bought that novel.

I grew up with the magical world of Harry Potter, the first 4 books always end with happy, the goods win the bad kind of novel. The books and the magical world gave me comfort. I found myself somewhat related to Harry, the abandoned child, living in a house that cannot be called home. The school is a much better place to call home than the actual house he was brought up with. He’s an excellent students, not a nerd like, but someone’s special. I found myself in Harry as much as I found myself in Scarlett. Gone with the Wind and Harry Potter are the 2 most influential books to me. I ordered the English book home to read, because I can’t wait for the Vietnamese translation. That’s how much I was into these books.

In the 5th book, Harry who’s been the black sheep, the orphan of the house, discovered the love of his God Father, who’s also lonely and loves him like his own son. Unfortunately, at the end of the 5th book, Sirus Black, died, fell into the oblivion. As a person who believes in fairy tale, I can’t accept the fact that Sirius has dead, so much as I can’t accept the death of father. I continued to read book number 6, and found out again, that Albus Dumbledore, another father-like figure in Harry’s life also died.

You know, I stopped reading the novel altogether, I bought book 7, and never read it. I don’t think I even read till the end of book number 6. It was as if, I can’t find myself to bear the heartache of 2 beloved father died, it was as if they were my father.

16 years later, I’m a much grownup now, was able to soldier on, and read through all the way from book number 1 to book number 6 last night. And this morning, when I woke up to the dreadful dream, I also listened to the last chapter describing how Dumbledore has bravely arranged his own death. I feel pain, sorrow, and sadness that invade my bedroom, that I curl up in the darkness and never want to wake up again.

It’s funny isn’t it, to some of you who’s entirely made up from different factors like Senses, Thinking, my illogical sadness is so hard to grasp, so hard to understand. After all, they are just some imaginative character of someone’s mind, how can you feel pain, and sorrow. I cannot explain how my mind works, but the feeling is so real. Just as much as I love to have flower in my home, I need these feelings both good and bad in my life.

A Dreamer like me needs these imaginative stories to feed into my dream, much as a Thinker like you needs data, facts and figures to feed into your straight line thoughts. A dreamer like me needs a thinker like you to steer me into the right direction, and a thinker like you need a dreamer like you to enrich your life beyond the 4 walls of a house, or beyond Earth.

Today, I feel like I’ve finally grown up. I have finally embraced and accept the Death of Dumbledore, and subsequently my father. I think it couldn’t come at a better time since I’ve decided that from this year on I will celebrate his life as I should be. And I will also celebrate Dumbledore’s life in another world, another segment of my life.

My heart, though still feel heavy, but I can feel that it’s giving me a smile, and said: Good job, you are now starting to understand what life means. And as we always said: Life goes on.

Thank you so much Professor Dumbledore, for the great life you have lived and for the wisdom you have shared with me. I am no longer the 16 year old girl who’s throwing away the book when I found out you are about to be killed. I am a 32 year old woman who read through your words and found wisdom in your last words. I understand that love is the true power, and nothing else can beat love.