Sopeap lets go of her final breath, flies away with my words that drift distant in the night to the glorious place where family waits—and it is over. I close the dripping book and place it restfully against her chest. I want to be sad—to wail and lament the passing of my dear teacher and friend, Sopeap Sin—but I do not. Perhaps it is because I don’t want the feeling of peace and love that has swept across my life to leave.
