He was 85 and his heart had given him trouble for the last decades. Finally, after getting weaker and weaker it finally gave up. It was the natural way how things happen in this world – maybe in this universe, and I am glad he got to live that long and that I had the chance to share so many years in life with him. Amidst the mourning there is a consolation: No one who communicated with others is really dead as long as his communications are still reverberating through existing and coming generations. It is the talks I had with my Dad, the things he showed to me, his way of commenting life in one way or the other that will defy that act of nature. My father is dead – long live my father!
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