In My Own World

There are moments that arrive unexpectedly—not wrapped in joy, but in sorrow. The kind that shouldn't bring smiles, and yet somehow, quietly, they do. A loved one had passed, and like it always does, news of loss carried with it a reunion. Relatives from different cities came, faces I hadn’t seen in years. There was grief in the air, yes. A heaviness that lingered in the silences and the lowered voices. But there was also warmth—familiar laughter, shared stories, the comfort of presence. It wasn’t an ideal situation. It never is, when someone leaves this world. But in the midst of the sadness, there was this fragile kind of happiness—one that tiptoed in through shared meals, old jokes, and side glances that said, *“It’s been too long.”* And during those quiet pockets of togetherness, I found myself wishing I could freeze the moment. Hold it still—not to erase the sorrow, but to preserve the togetherness. To bottle up the feeling of being surrounded by people who knew my roots, who ...