It is curious how sometimes the memory of death lives on for so much longer than the memory of the life that it purloined. – Lines from – The God of Small Things – Arundhati Roy
Long long time ago, my Dad passed away. During those initial grieving moments, I never felt any loss or pang of death. But as days passed to months and then to years, the reflection of his words, thoughts clouded over me. Every day at some fleeting moment, his image, thoughts, words or random things about him descends on my thought.Now it’s more than 20 years, and still I feel the separation as it happened yesterday.
Curious to know if anyone feels like this…
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pur·loin –verb (used with object)
1.to take dishonestly; steal; filch; pilfer.
–verb (used without object)
2.to commit theft; steal.
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