[Behind father Ben's old photo was a poem addressed to my mother. ] Be with me always Take any form. Drive me mad if you will. Only please, don't leave me Alone in this dark Where I can't find you, I can't live without you, I cannot die. I was in a kitchen, in a conversation with a colleague, when the latter reminded me of an instance when a friend was disheartened that she wasn't informed of the reason why I returned home. This was many years ago. I received a call asking me to return home; to go directly to a hospital. No, to a morgue. I said, I was sorry that she wasn't informed. Touching the laptopās keys in razed for a deadline, I related, I didn't even had the moment to grieve my heart out. When my colleague left for an errand outside, my mind recoiled on those cold bare feet, the only part of his body visible to me from the seats of a funeral parlor where he was cleansed and readied for his ...