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“His death hit me hard, and I was never able to let him go. Even though I’d seen him dead and buried, the truth was that he had never really left me. I grew up measuring myself against him, counting the years, thinking: one day I’ll be as old as Tavică was.” — Doina Ruști
His death hit me hard, and I was never able to let him go. Even though I’d seen him dead and buried, the truth was that he had never really left me. I grew up measuring myself against him, counting the years, thinking: one day I’ll be as old as Tavică was.