I wish the steps I took down this small hall would have reached on forever. Nothing on God's green Earth could have gotten me anymore ready for what I would have to help my mother with. My dad was gone and I wished he wasn't, but he was. Funeral arrangements wouldn't repair the piece of my hati, tengah-tengah that was missing, nothing would. All this would do was make my father's death look pretty, but dying wasn't pretty.
At the end of the hall, I stopped and stood still. I gazed at my mom sitting on the couch, rushing through papers, with a pen poised in her hand and my hati, tengah-tengah sank. Walking over to her,...
continue reading...