Time

Time, the only thing we never had, both in life and in death. "Why did Baba die?" is a question I'm asked a lot by our son now. "His heart stopped working" is my reply. "But why?" he continues probing and I'm at a loss for words.

"Tell me Baba story" he says and I regale him with our glorious weekends together. I skip the bits where we were lonely through the week and waited so desperately to catch a glimpse of you over the weekends.

We were so madly in love with you and you were so madly in love with everything else, other than wanting to spend time with us. I try to bury my love for you now by focusing on everything you did wrong.

I know it's not fair, but you left me. You chose death and death chose you. And this feels worse than a divorce. I've never been divorced, so I'm not sure if it's the right comparison to make. 

"I miss Baba", has been playing on loop for the past three days and I'm relieved he finally starts school next week. 

It's father's day on Sunday and I'm scouring the Internet to pick the right cake for you. You miss your son too, I can feel it in my bones. 

Time, it doesn't heal. Time, that's all we ever wanted from you.