The Beginning of The End

Hi blogspot,

It's been, a while. I hope everyone is fine.
I'm fine, myself. Currently, still recovering from whatever I'm left with.

I guess, I will blog again. Like I said before, one day, I will blog again, and I guess today is the 'one day' that I mentioned before.
Don't ask me why. I'm not too sure either, I just suddenly felt like, this is the time?
Like maybe I should stop wasting time, and start re-blogging again.
I mean, because of this blog, so many memories were solidified in here, kept forever (unless, of course Google decided to delete this page)
Hence, I should start blogging again, to store memories starting from today, cause I know I do not wanna miss a single word, a laugh, a tear, a second in my life

So, here I am, blogging again.

I've been missing too much. 
All those that had happen way before this blog entry, after that incident - The Beginning of The End,
I would and could have written it down, here. 
To think that I have lost that much of memories, I feel stupid...

What should I start with?
I think I really need a meaningful post, to sort of 'REVIVE' the whole blog.
LOL.
Okay, just kidding.

You know what people say when you try to hold on to the memory you wanna remember, so hard, you eventually forget?
That is what I'm afraid of.
I'm terrified, horrified that I will loose all those memories about him.
Isn't it always the case? I mean, Yes, of course, some stayed, but NOT ALL.
and I want ALL of them save with me, even after 20 years later, or maybe the day of my last breath! still clear as crystal.
I'm being a melo?
No, no, truly, I do.

Hence, I wanna make it sort of like a daily routine.
A single entry a day that talks about him, or stuffs he did for me and us...
Just so I can read it all again, if one day my memory deteriorates.

I remember, 
He would knock on my door every Monday morning - he works in another state, and only comes home at weekends - and give me my allowance.
His tone, always gentle and soft - even, at times, when I'm being an awful daughter and argued with him.
And the way he knocks on my door, I can tell it's him just by listening.
Because, it's always a gentle knock. 
He's a man with huge hands, I cannot imagine how a man can knock on a door that gently.
That knock on my door, I wish I could hear again...