It's precisely 3:30am when I'm starting this blog post. I can't sleep. It is April 11th, 2010. Three years ago, on this day the doctors told my father as he lay in a hospital bed, that they could do no more for him. The chemo did not work.
The events of those days; the hours, the minutes, the seconds, are as crisp as a winter breeze. How can they be forgotten?
How does one learn to live with those moments?
