How I long to say Nana

I just read a diary full of overwhelming poesy that my mom has been penning down in memory of my grandfather/her father. It was so beautifully compiled, and each poem was so simple in sentence and rhyme. I could picture the last time I saw Nana walk through the Aangan and rush out with his RWA files in his hand for the his quintessential routine meetings. Everyday, my Nani would wait for lunch and would have to inevitably reach him on his mobile. She'd say to him over the phone - Hun bas karo te ghar aa jao. I miss my Nana and his going away has made me fear death. I still continue to engage in daily arguments and unnecessary tantrums with family and close friends, never giving the fact that neither parties have any clue about how long we're together for. I love my family. And just like yours, they know me better than everyone else. Little things like prayers, confessions and gestures are meaningful. One mustn't wait for bad times to make you realise the worth of a particular relationship. This philosophical tone is not suiting me and is certainly not impressing you. So I'm going pause before I begin to hinge on something even more annoying.