I still wait for a kind of understanding they were never taught to give

Dear Delyara, I know my parents loved in the language they had. That truth helps. It does not remove the longing. Some part of me still waits for a different kind of understanding — one with more emotional precision, more softness, more ability to sit with feeling without turning it practical or awkward too quickly. I know this is a grief that doesn’t always look dramatic from the outside. It just lives underneath ordinary interactions and keeps reminding me what was never native to the house. Understanding them has made me kinder. It has not made me stop wishing.