I still remember all the laughs from our trip to Sweden. How we missed the train, and (unsuccessfully) tried to run after the right one, how we mistook Schnapps for some kind of a ginger drink, and the way we solved the mystery of the see-through door of our hotel's bathroom... the laughs never just stopped.
We lost him in his birthday month. On the 23rd of December. He died of an aortic aneurism, and as he lay on the hospital bed, awaiting his surgery, he called my mother and me to him and said, "Aruna, I had promised to outlive you. I am sorry that I may not be able to keep that promise. This surgery is difficult and complicated and I may not survive it. I apologise to you for all instances in our married life that I may have been angry or unreasonable with you."