I can’t believe Dad is Dead. I never got to go home after he passed and so it does feel in some obscure corner of my mind that he must be ok. He must be getting up in the morning reading his newspapers, going for his walk, eating his food, chanting his mantras, watching his TV Serials, reading his books and be happy and be ok. But I know it is not true. Perhaps when I finally go visit his room and sleep in it will I realise that he is gone or perhaps I will never realise it. Because Dad was always present and yet never present in an ostensible way. He chose to be background information. He was just there. Doing his things. He wouldn’t reach out but he would be always be there when you reach out. Perhaps he will always be there in some universe and some world doing his own thing. I will never actually imagine he is gone. He must be somewhere in his home, hospital, nursing home doing his own thing.
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