July 29th will never be just another date on the calendar. It is the day where time quietly that divided my life into “before” and “after”.
I have been told often that time heals everything. I have learned that it doesn’t. Time teaches us how to carry the pain, but it never erases the emptiness left by someone who shaped our lives.
Eleven years have passed, yet there are still moments when I instinctively want to call you. I still find myself wondering what advice you would have given, what joke you would have made, or how proud you would have been to see the milestones our family has reached. Every achievement carries a small ache because I wish you were here to witness it.
I hear you in the songs you loved. I see you in the values you lived by. I recognize you in the person I strive to be and in the lessons I pass on to Vyom. Your presence has changed from being beside me to being within me.
There is a saying that grief is the price we pay for love. If that is true, then my grief is simply a reflection of how deeply I was blessed to be your son.
I miss you Baba, not just today, but every single day and I always will.
Until we meet again.
