I feel as though I am suspended in time, drifting; perhaps time will briefly stop, and then I will begin to move again. You see, I am waiting for my father to pass away – we don’t know when, only that he was very sick and now has no energy to wake again.

It’s strange because I live here and he lives there, and we couldn’t really speak. Having lost his hearing and relying on an implant, the phone was not an ideal instrument for conversation. Instead, I sent him and my mother weekly letters – “News of the Week” – and sometimes he would write back. But I suppose it was hard for him to make small talk over email, so our conversations had to wait until what became my periodic visits over the past few years.

Most of the time, he would try to follow conversations through his implant, and we even had a microphone just for that. Those conversations, though, were........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)