I remember I went to dig potatoes with mom and dad when I was 5 years old. The cars could not go through, we had to use a boat to ship them to the shore. Dad then went to ship the potatoes, but when he was half way, because there was too many of them a hole was formed. Water entered to the boat through the hole and slowly started to rise. Dad just disappeared. Mom cried and shouted and I just started to cry. One life was over from now on; life is brief, we have to cherish it. There is only on life, you cannot simply exchange it for money.

On the night my father drowned into the bottom of the lake, I asked my mother: “when is dad coming back?”, “he’ll be back on a few days” she replied. At that moment I really believed my mum, I only had 5 years old, I didn’t understand the meaning of life and death. I looked for my dad every day, but throughout all that time I hadn’t seen him. It wasn’t until I had 7 years old I understood that dead people would never come back. I’ve been living on lies for two years, the dad I wished to see again would never come back. Meanwhile, my mum wished me to grow up faster.

It’s been seven years since my father passed away. I really wanted to shout “Dad!” every time I listened someone shouting it. Losing father’s love is so sad and difficult at the same time.