A Farewell Through Innocent Eyes: How My Sister Taught Us the Power of Love
The wake was quiet—bathed in soft, golden candlelight, the kind that made the shadows dance gently along the walls, and suffused with the faint, lingering perfume of white lilies.
Each bloom seemed to mourn in its own way, nodding as if in reverence. My little sister Lily stood rigidly beside our father’s coffin, one small hand resting almost reverently on the polished wood, tracing the grain as if trying to connect with the father she had loved so deeply.
She didn’t cry, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She didn’t speak. She simply stared with wide, searching eyes, filled with a mixture of confusion, longing, and…
The wake was quiet—bathed in soft, golden candlelight, the kind that made the shadows dance gently along the walls, and suffused with the faint, lingering perfume of white lilies.
Each bloom seemed to mourn in its own way, nodding as if in reverence. My little sister Lily stood rigidly beside our father’s coffin, one small hand resting almost reverently on the polished wood, tracing the grain as if trying to connect with the father she had loved so deeply.
She didn’t cry, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She didn’t speak. She simply stared with wide, searching eyes, filled with a mixture of confusion, longing, and…
