“Every time I lose someone close to me or someone dear to me leaves, I feel a bit of myself dying within me”
Afew years back I was in Spain for little over a month, learning Spanish. At times I spent my evenings with seniors, in an infirmary, with people, who were at the evening of their lives. That evening as I was practicing Spanish with one of the elderly Spaniard, we heard that person from the other room had just left to his eternal abode. I just stopped my practice as I knew that this Spaniard deserved his time to mourn. Before I could leave the room, he just whispered, “every time I lose someone close to me or someone dear to me leaves, I feel a bit of myself dying within me”. Those words took time to sink in and a few years later I understand them slightly better.
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