Ten years ago, today, he left.
I can still remember that back then, the whole incident didn't really have much meaning to me. I wasn't there to witness it. At the time, it was like just another piece of news. Maybe I was still too young to really understand. It wasn't until the very last moment that it really hit me that I would never see him again. I remember crying, but maybe I didn't even know why.
It's been ten years. As I watch the other people in my family grow old, I think back and wish that things could have been different. I wish I could have known him better, because it seems that I only have very vague memories of him. I can remember how he watched World Cup, how he always sat in his chair reading the newspaper, and how he kept a giant collection of toy cars. But other than that, I can't seem to remember anything.
What a shame.
God bless.
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