What can I say? Too many friends have recently died. They are gone, and yet, I can still see their faces, hear their stories and advice — often repeated. And I regret I didn’t spend more time with them; I was too busy, and weren’t they always going to be there, offering me something to drink and sharing their favorite jokes? But friends dying is also a wake-up call that someday I will be joining them — hopefully not too soon.

My parents passed away in 1987 and 2000, and since they didn’t believe in talking about themselves, I never knew much about their lives: when and how they met, what they did during the war, their ambitions. What memories I do have are fading, like everything else that happened more than a week — or a day ago!