After the proceedings, I visited my father’s grave alone, carrying with me the echoes of unresolved conversations and unspoken sentiments. Kneeling by the fresh mound of earth, I placed a single paper crane—carefully folded, a symbol of the bond with my mother and a tribute to the father I wished I had known better.

“Goodbye, Dad,” I whispered, feeling the weight of the past lift, replaced by a serene acceptance.