I actually thought, as I was reading, that your piece was slowly, steadily, deliberately, grasping the tendrils and roots and reach of your lifetime with your naani. I have felt the same ineptitude when trying to express my loss of a loved one, and the slow, sinking entirety I felt as I read your piece made the loss, and all its subtitles, real to me. Thank you so much for that, SF.
‘Grief isn’t temporary.’ Truer words! I think the infinity in its wake make art struggle. Maybe it also keeps us in effort? Big hugs.