memories

“Mom, take rest and don’t even think about skipping your medications,” Myra said, forcing a cheerful tone. “Now that I’m here, I won’t even let you lift a finger. Your ears will bleed soon—because I’m going to yap the whole day.”

She chuckled, hiding the ache in her chest.

Myra left her mom in Jade’s care and stepped out into the hallway.

Every step she took inside that old house tugged at memories buried deep. The walls whispered echoes of the past. The last time she had walked through this door was after her father’s death—and it had shattered her.

It was during her exams. Her dad had fallen seriously ill.

The last time he left the house, it was Myra who helped him wear his shoes.

She didn’t know that moment would be their final goodbye.

Myra had always been close to her dad. He was her best friend. Even though he worked abroad, during vacations he showered her with love.

She never had to ask for anything—he’d already brought it.

He’d always said with a smile,

> “Just show me the picture of the guy you love and want to marry. I’ll never go against your choice.”

She smiled faintly at the memory of their late-night karaoke sessions and the silly memes they used to share.

Her dad was a gentleman—soft-spoken, caring, and full of mischief. He had only scolded her once in her entire life. And even then, when she cried afterward, he apologized a thousand times—despite it being her fault.

Every memory hurt. But somehow, they made her feel warm too.

Because her dad hadn’t just been a great man.

He had been hers

Myra was lost in her thoughts, memories weaving through her mind like faded photographs.

She recalled how her dad used to hug her mom from behind while she cooked, sneaking kisses and whispering silly jokes into her ear. He was always teasing her, making her blush—but when it came to romance, he was a total expert.

She could still see them slow-dancing in the kitchen, his voice off-key but heartfelt as he sang “Tum Hi Ho”(you are the only one)—their favorite song.

He didn’t just love his daughters; he loved everyone in the family. He was admired by all, always smiling, always warm. A man who gave more than he received.

The memories stung, but they glowed too.

Just then—

“AUNTYYYYY!! You're finally back!”

Her thoughts shattered as her little nephew Jasver came running in, arms wide. He crashed straight into her embrace, and Myra knelt down to scoop him up.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

He looked just like Dada. Same eyes. Same goofy smile.

Even the way he pouted—exactly like him.

Jade entered from behind, voice half-annoyed and half-laughing.

“Jasver! Don’t go jumping on her like that—she just got here! Let her rest.”

But Myra didn’t mind. She hugged her nephew tighter, her heart lightening with every second.

Soon enough, the two of them were running around the house, playing and shouting, giggling like old friends.

And of course, they couldn’t resist annoying Jade too.

“You two are giving me a headache,” she groaned.

Just then, Jade’s husband, Jean, walked in.

“Well, well, well—finally, my very stylish sister-in-law is back!” he teased.

Myra grinned.

“Jiju! (brother in law)You and I are going to roam everywhere. I’m not going anywhere for the next three months, okay? That’s what Mumma promised me.”

The house, which had felt so heavy with silence, suddenly felt warm again.

Laughter echoed.

Hearts healed—just a little more.

The family was together again. And that was enough, for now.

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