There once was a russian jeweler who had a wife and a beautiful daughter.
He lived a full life having travelled to many parts of his country, settling eventually in a young city in the heart of Russia.
He was not a simple man or an easy one. He was one of those kinds of persons who had his personal demons to deal with.
One day he lost his ultimate battle with a disease that took him, far too early from his family.
The daughter only found out of her fathers ill fate, when she got home and saw a black cloth covering the mirror.
It is not certain if part of her soul died on that day with her father, as she had no chance to say goodbye to him or make mends.
Perchance her true love died on that day, with all that was left to say. It is far more difficult to keep a pain unresolved within from someone with whom we can not clear the truth.
So why say goodbyes?, the daughter thought.
Perchance the jeweler would wonder about to keep the wife and the daughter safe.
I believe that somehow, when someone endures such a strong and deep pain, a part of the soul shuts down, and it is almost impossible to wake up this part again. The black cloth hides what cannot be seen.
The emotions are stollen and are never back again.
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