Proverbial Woman, Chapter 4, Part 1

Often she would return from extended periods of near death unconsciousness. And each time she would open her eyes, and in a crackling tone of voice murmur my father’s name. On several occasions I painfully watched her cry out for him. Repeatedly in a strenuous strain of breath she would sigh with whimpering sounds, as she would ask in a fainting tone of voice, ‘Where is he?’”

“Its okay…” he whispered, sympathetically.

“I’m sorry. Every time I think of those moments… I’m sorry. It was a painful time for all of us,” I added, wiping the tears from my eyes.