The Spanish have a proverb, “Sudden death is God’s kiss upon the soul.” Perhaps it is so for the one dying – not so much for the ones they leave behind. Death overtook my parents before we could reconcile our differences. Death closed a door; I was left with thoughts and memories I thought would shortly be sorted out.
We think we have time; often we do. I did not.
Today, readers, if you can bury the hatchet, do it. And do not make a map of how to get back to it.