One of my biggest regrets in life is being afraid to openly talk to my father in his last few weeks on earth. For a month, I sat in hospital near his bed and tried to distract him with talks about everything but him and me. I wanted to ask him about things that were important to me and tell him what he meant to me.
I didn’t have courage for that. I didn’t want to admit to myself that this was it. I didn’t want him to lose hope if I started talking about things that really mattered for me in our relations.
And then it was too late.
And I believe this would be my burden forever.
I don’t know whether my debut novel will be successful (this blog is published before the book launch), and I definitely do not depend on it to make a living. But in this book, for those who search, there are some inner beliefs that I have, there are some ideas that have bothered or entertained me during my life.
I hope that one day, none of my children will feel the same huge void, and they will have some answers. If I have any expectation from my fiction writing, that would be the most important of all. And I believe it’s my biggest motivation too, or at least one of them.