Father Christmas

Not the jolly one, just the one I miss.

Hi, my wives. Longest time.

So, as most of you know, I experienced grief this year. My favourite person died, my dad. And even though I still haven’t found the words to really talk about my grief, I’ve been able to pick up pieces of it and hold them long enough to name them.

The last time I wrote something related to my grief, it was that tweet where I said sometimes I forget that my dad died. That still feels true. But today, I want to talk about something else; how grief sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

You know how people say you don’t know what you have until you lose it? That’s not exactly my story. I knew what I had. I knew my dad’s importance when he was alive. I adored him. I loved him loudly. But now, it’s like the absence of him has gotten louder too, like everything I see or hear suddenly carries the word father in bold letters.

I could be watching a movie or scrolling through something random, and if there are 1,000 words on that screen, the first one my brain will pick out is dad. The word jumps out at me now, not because it triggers me, but because I notice it. Because it feels like something I’ve been unconsciously scanning for.

*A visual illustration of how my brain works now, lmfaooo. *

I’ve been watching a lot of movies and series lately, mostly to distract myself. And with the holidays approaching, I’ve entered my Christmas movie era. Shout-out to Hallmark for always coming through with the same comforting nonsense.

You know how it always goes: small-town girl returns home, bumps into her high school sweetheart or a JJC (Johnny Just Come), and somehow there’s always a dad in the mix, gently telling her to follow her heart. 🫠

And I’m just there, smiling through it—but feeling that quiet pinch. Because every time the confused lover girl says ‘Dad,’ asking for the most obvious advice for the 50th time, I get reminded that I don’t have one anymore.

*The original picture is of me and dad when I was a toddler, and I modified him to a Santa with AI. Don’t judge a girl please, lmfaooo*

And I think that’s what I mean when I say grief sneaks up on you. It doesn’t always come with tears, sometimes it’s just a quiet awareness. A word you suddenly notice more than others.

These days, I find myself avoiding calls from home more than usual, not because I don’t love them, but because that anxiety lives rent-free in my body now. That tiny fear that something might have happened again.

Anyway, I’ve also been finding comfort in little things. My book has been doing so well, especially with my foreign audience (almost 1,000 orders!). That’s wild. Sometimes I look at the numbers and smile, then guilt hits me for smiling.

I’m slowly working on getting the Nigerian prints out, but I’ll be honest… I’m nervous. Maybe it’s the thought of how much physical work and manpower it’ll take to promote the copies here… and I don’t think I’m in that space yet. Between book launch plans, PR, budgeting, and reaching out to bookstores… phew. Either way, I’m taking it one step at a time. Or someone please get me a manager. 😞✋

I’ve also been taking fewer gigs lately: resting more, sleeping more, and watching half-finished series. I stopped Killing Eve at Season 2, The Wilds at Season 1 and a half, The Lincoln Lawyer somewhere mid-season (and honestly, for those who think it’s as good as HTGAWM - please, go brush up your judgment skills 😭).

My Netflix is now full of ‘continue watching’ titles that I’ll definitely not be continuing. I wish I could rewatch Sex and the City or Shameless again, but I don’t know how to commit to something I’ve already seen, no matter how much I love it. And yes, I’ll keep yearning to experience them for the first time again. 🫠

Okay, so I really don’t even know how to end this. I just wanted to write something—anything—after such a long silence here.

So maybe this is me saying: I’m still here. Still watching, feeling, grieving, healing; sometimes all at once.

Till I see you guys again,

PS: I’ll try to send one or two more letters before the year ends.

With love,
Yetunde Omobolanle ✨