The news of my tragic and despairing death shattered my mother, bringing her to the brink of collapse.
Every day, she clung to the silk scarf I had gifted her, tears flowing freely as she held it close.
My father, though in deep pain, managed to maintain a certain restraint, embodying the stoicism expected of men.
He took care of my mother, who seemed lost in a fog of grief, working tirelessly
















