Dear dad's diary.
I'm adding this entry as the last one so that I can complete the story.
After his marriage at 29-years-of-age and my birth a year later, Reza bought a new house. It was bigger than the one he had before. He said the old one had too many memories.
Reza and Azra lived happily ever after. After me, two more children where born of them. My two sisters, Iffat and Qirat. Mom and dad lived long enough to witness our marriages and even our first borns.
Till their last breath, they loved each other. Even when I found them dead in their bed, they where holding hands. They died in their sleep almost two months from now. No sickness, no any thing. They just closed their eyes at night and next morning, they had passed away.
My aunts and uncles, both paternal and maternal, still live to this day and they tell my children, nephews and nieces stories of their lives.
Reza was 78 when he died and Azra was 77. They where old but their minds where young.
Dad was true of the promise he made in the journal. He never let us, my sisters and I, go through any thing he had.
Both mum and dad are now resting in peace side by side, a few yards away from grandpa and grandma.
The last thing I remember about my dad was the smile he had on his face the morning after his death. He was happy.
I hope he and mom are watching over us from heavens even right now as I write.
-The owner of this diary's son.
Omar Reza.
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Dear dad's diary.
Ficción General"Dear dad's diary. I found this journal in dad's trunk when I was sorting things out a day before yesterday. I'm adding this entry so that readers come to know that I read it..." Omer's father had never told him about the struggles of his own life...
