A Life I will Never Know

I honestly was not planning to share this part of my story, however, with the turn of events and timing, I could not...not share this with you.
It was a knee jerk reaction when I posted about the death of Jerry John Rawlings, former Head Of State and President Of the Republic Of Ghana two days ago in my stories.
This is not a victim story. It is how he became a catalyst of creativity in my life.
Yesterday, I talked about holidays in Paris with my best friend.
I was set to return to Paris, to attend boarding school, and more (I wanted to attend La Sorbonne!) when it happened.
A military coup in Ghana.
I won’t go into the horrid details.
But.
This coup destroyed my father....the loving, happy go lucky, dedicated diplomat, civil servant and patriot that he was.
My father’s ENTIRE life revolved around his career. He LOVED his work and his life.
With one man’s decision and the ripple effects, my father lost everything he had worked for. Our little family unit was also ripped apart. A downward spiral of a beautiful man begun.
I cried for my father yesterday.
I talked to my mother and she refused to revisit memories which we had all buried.
Painful memories.
Because of the actions of one man.
Overnight, I went from being a pampered princess to a mother to my father, housekeeper, cook, maid, gardener and more.
After losing everything, we, my father and I, moved to live in an incomplete house, which at the time, was in the middle of nowhere.
I didn’t know how to boil an egg.
But I learned to cook like my mother did for him. She had spoiled the man! And I had big, impossible shoes to fill.
I didn’t know how to clean a window sill.
But I learned how to keep an entire house.
Not only did I keep the house, I learned how to paint walls with limestone, how to sew curtains with needle and thread, how to plant and grow a garden with seeds and cuttings that I gathered from my aunties. I learned how to mold concrete flower pots. I learned how to iron shirts and trousers.
I was so DESPERATE to recreate the happiest time of my life, my childhood and more importantly, I was DESPERATE to hold my father up.
I wanted his pride back.
I wanted his honor back.

All the friends and family who flooded our homes all over the world were gone.
He used to drink for fun and joy.
Now he drank his sorrows away.
He became bitter and different.
But, every morning when he woke up, he would still get dressed, get into his car and drive around. He was defiant and broken.
We experienced unimaginable poverty.
And when I finished University, I knew I had to start a business.
I did my best.
I did my best to love him and prop him up through it all.
At 13, I became a grown woman.
Even though she was not the cause of the divorce, my father kept custody of me as a way to punish my mother.
I only got to see her once a week. And I had to walk many miles to do so.
My life has been shaped by my ability to DREAM....and not only to dream, but also gather all the skills required to make my dreams come true.
I dreamed of a day when he could lift his head with pride again, and through the humble success of my business as a designer, I was able to accomplish that for him.
Jerry John is gone now. I don’t have any feelings for him personally. But, his passing brought up every emotion inside of me.
We survived.
But, yesterday, I allowed myself to wallow in the question, who would I have been, who would we have been as a family if he hadn’t happened to us.
I will never know.