The Words of the Cisse Family
I didn't follow the 1st anniversary of Father's Seunghwa at the very time it was commemorated. Facing to have not mourned his departure yet, in any way; and wasn't aware of it, until the time beginning July until the 23rd of August awoke me to it.
Horrible few weeks: nightmares as many as those in the rest of my life piled together; a spirituality that echoed nothing in return, feeling nothing.
Even though, True Mother came to me in an awaken dreamlike: holding her back on her two arms, up front her chair, like she sometimes does to relax her back, she turned toward me a serene face to mean an unexpected acknowledging glance, together with a smile her own. It is after the 23rd that comprehension of the all happening settled down.
I learned be natural with Father conversing like a normal daughter addressees her dad. It first bothered me.
I resented him so much to be gone, he who survived tortures and hell, but not pneumonia. I felt abandoned, when in fact; he is asking all the time to tell him what's going on with our life. I wrongly assumed differently, so I deprived him, and Mother, from fun and joy with all the good things I dream to share, like how my husband is really awesome to me and to our daughter... or how the four of us: you Father, and my blessed family, two Malians, and a French, have the like for sweet potatoes in common.
I am talking my relationship to Father, that which Mother's acknowledged and encouraged me to make it real and true.
I viewed the commemoration later, because it made sense as why to commemorate.
I find you sensational, Father. I didn't know...