Chapter 36 Thirty Six

• Only a person who has lost a dear one would understand the desperation to talk to them after you see a casket close on them. Dad’s voice was a mellifluous song to my ears. The fact that I couldn’t be there in the hospital with him when he took his last breaths had eaten me alive since his passing.
• I was too stubborn, silly, and spoiled to tell him I loved him a million times. It would have put my heart at ease if I had said it even once when he was suffering.
• It was not my feet but my heart darting for the door. Mindlessly, I unlocked it, and a howling gale made the door burst open. Once the wind stopped, what I met with was only the emptiness of the hallway. Was Dad’s ghost invisible?