The Unbearable Pain of Watching Your Father Die

I feel guilty for feeling relieved that I wasn’t there in the end

Me and my dad on our last vacation together back in his hometown in India. Photo courtesy of the author.

As we came to recite the mourner’s prayer, I broke down. Everything finally hit me: The reality of no longer having my dad’s support, knowing we’d never speak again, that this world would no longer be graced by his presence.

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