This is because you always said that writing down persuaded the butterflies to escape the humdrum of yesterday, and paint our very breath at this very moment. So I sit out on my terrace bench and look up. The vastness of your deep blue presence envelopes me, this meshed up sky with the remnants of evening shower tells me you are smiling and happy. The exact two words, your immense life was not familiar with, that you lived for everyone else other than yourself and Maa. The weather-beaten surely, sometimes rusty too but nonetheless a life that touched many. To fit into your shoes is hyperbole, and grateful is my heart, that I am your progeny. The only commiseration in us losing you is, the gift of giving, humility, perseverance and tolerance that we barely managed to scratch away from your abundant life. The very attributes that are fast decaying but only if we can give it to our progeny, half our battles of being a parent will be won.
My only grudge, if I dare say so is, had you given Maa a little more credit for the magnifying support system that she was. I wish!! But then we all fall short somewhere, and that makes us the very fallible ungodly mortals. Today Maa remembers you like her breath and I should be no one to judge. Please know that I have a regret that I probably never hugged you the way I embrace Maa. I have a regret that I never said thank you for your unassuming love, care and forever being an inconspicuous provider. Hence, I thank the almighty tonight for the abundance that you were and still are in our lives. Keep being our angel papal!
Till we meet again.
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