three deep breaths, smiles turned to the two angels. So they opened the gates of heaven and his soul flew away.
Dad is gone. It 'going to take the road that you own and within a few days of slow and silent agony his ship finally took off and never come back to this port, but will plow the waves in the open ocean.
Only a few sketches of the sea, only a few scents of distant lands, only some silence, as at this time, our memory will return to touch and talk to him.
With his death has not died just one life, he ends an era for a whole country for thousands of people from tomorrow will feel the void of his absence, because Dad was not only inhabitants of Moscow, Dad was Moscow. It was the blood of his country, flowed in every vein, in every alley, every bar where he drank with friends and playing cards, was the Bowling alley where you play on Saturday and Sunday, was in the pool halls where he won a cue, was among the children who speak of him as a timeless myth.
And then it was an empty house. Ours, in which for years lived alone together because he was no longer possible. And still the silence, some huge void, if the wishes of and and but not enough to fill one because these absences.
Dad is gone and with him goes away the memory of a lifetime of struggle, because its a different forced him to live on the margins and after so many years those places had become too tight even for someone like he loved the solitude, or pretended, resigned to his condition ..
Dad has embraced his cross, his illness as a source of liberation. In silence, as only he could do and with the dignity of those who were walking along a path chosen and willed with all his heart. Without asking for anything but a little help sometimes on the bed when even the mattress seemed made of stones and thorns, and without ever complaining of pains that cancer, hunger and thirst forced him cruelly.
He atoned for everything in life and what remains to comfort our wounded hearts is the certainty that his soul has flown to the Father's house, light as a butterfly and pure and clear as that on March 5 in '48 when he was set foot on this earth.
Other words, other memories have more meaning, because quad Sweet Lady opens its arms to you and leads you gently stroking him, as did the death with my dad, then you can just check the serenity of knowing now he is there in the eternal home and well.
And even if life has chosen other avenues for us and for our love, we are only now finally found to have you, Dad.
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