Pause. Stop. Take a deep breath.
The last few months have been very much about Dad and his final days. Its been a month now since he died. Translated to glory. The chariot of fire came and whisked him away. Quietly.
There is much still to write. A whole life-time. I was up in Mussoorie last weekend and just peeped into a few of Dad's many files in his office. A whole set of life-times.
But I have intentionally not written for the last two weeks. And will probably not write about Dad for some more time.
Just to sort things out a bit in my own head. In my own heart. To go back to the rhythm of life. To discover the new normal.
I need to pray more and talk less. To be quiet in the presence of the Lord. To sing more and walk in the morning coolness.
There are letters to reply to. But they will have to wait. There are thoughts buzzing in the head, but they will have to settle.
The German word is spelled the same way. Pronounced 'Pow-seh'. It means 'recess.'
Some days ago my sister Premila posted on social media that she was stepping away for a while.
I have done the same - and want to extend the time of quiet for some more - at least on the many-faceted Dad-shaped hole in my heart.