80. Jalen

The morning of my dad's funeral was a somber one. The sun had just begun to break over the mournful hills, casting a pale glow over the world that seemed to reflect the mood of everyone who was gathered there. It was a rainy morning, with fat drops of water tapping against the windows of the funeral home, adding to the sense of sorrow that seemed to hang over the entire world.

Nobody felt like eating breakfast that morning, despite the spread that had been laid out for us. The food was unappetizing, and nobody had the heart to touch it. Instead, we all sat in silence, lost in our thoughts and grieving the loss of my father.

As I passed through my dad's study, I couldn't believe he was dead. The room was exactly as he had left it, and I could almost imagine him sitting behind his desk, working on one of his projects. But then reality would hit, and I would remember that he was gone and that he would never return.

I found myself thinking about all the unresolved issues I had with my dad