Chocolate Bread

Yesterday she asked why she heard the sound of a siren outside. I told her that a neighbour passed away and it was the siren of the car that would take the body to the cemetery; like when her dad passed away. She stopped on her track, blinked a couple of time, and resumed walking to the sink to brush her teeth.

Minutes later when she was in the bathroom, ready to take her bath, she said, “I like the chocolate bread.” Perplexed, I asked her, “What chocolate bread?” She answered, “The one I ate in the car when we were going back.” Me: “Back from where? What car? The cab, you mean?” Her: “No! Just a car.. from the day you were talking about.. it was like.. one year ago.”

It took me about 2 minutes to finally realize what she was talking about:
It was 2 years ago, we were on our way home in a car (not our own) after her dad’s burial when she had that chocolate bread.

If she remembers how the chocolate bread tasted like, then she must remember how the rest of the day felt like. 😦

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