Divine Intervention

How do I even start this chapter?

This journal began as a meaningful way to cope with losing a parent.

My siblings and I never really got to know him. I found at some point a short text he had written. It was a recollection of a summer night. He would describe the stars and contemplate the universe and existence in a moment to himself.

I can also recall little bits of core memories, but unfortunately, most of them have faded into a blur. We played football, he taught us physics, he would often drive us to school. But, most importantly, he taught us a methodical way of thinking.