Chapter Twelve: In the End
Didi took a notebook out of her bag. She leafed through the pages and then plucked a photograph
from inside it.
On the left side stood this boyish girl with short-wavy hair and a stubborn look on her face. She stood in direct contrast to her pretty-in-pink sister, who smiled purposefully at the camera. Between them stood a man of rugged handsomeness, with a moustache set perfectly between his nose and upper lip, thick, black and its ends curled fashionably. He wore a smug look of pride. On the right stood a woman with a quiet confidence, smiling pleasantly as her perm made her thin face stand out, almost like she belonged in a pulp-fiction film poster.
When I turned the photograph, a vivid memory on paper, I felt my father’s pen in his handwriting. It said:
The son and the moon,
And the blanket of the sky.
My little ones and the Mother,
How lucky was I.
Our lips curved into smiles as we read this, but our eyes gave the tears away. All this time we had wept over having lost him, but we never realized what Dad had to let go off...
His whole universe.