Today marks seven year’s since dad’s passing. Even though I miss him, I often think that it was good that he passed on before Covid-19 hit; I’m not sure what he’d have made of it with the worsening of his dementia. Or how mum would have had to take care of him during lockdown.
Unlike last year when I was in KL, I couldn’t make it for the prayers the family plans at the temple where his ashes remain. I did dream of him last night though, and woke up laughing from having made – in the dream – a terrible joke that only he would have laughed at. Forever in my thoughts.