Today, my heart is heavy as we approach Vinayaka Chavithi tomorrow. It’s the first one without Dad. Every year, we were blessed to listen to his melodious, vibrant voice chanting the mantras, filling our home with such clarity and devotion. His storytelling brought the festival to life, creating an atmosphere we all cherished deeply (Attached pic is from my book "Swimming against the tide "where I described about the celebration of Vinayaka Chavithi at our home).
It's hard to come to terms with the fact that we won't hear his voice leading us in prayers, or feel the warmth of his presence during the rituals. The silence is overwhelming.
Every thought, every moment, brings Dad back to us in our hearts. Remembering him with a deep sense of loss, yet so much gratitude for all the years we were blessed to share these sacred times with him.
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