This reads like a man struggling with his wife's amnesia.
like the feelings are still there, the love is still there, but the memories are... the memories linger even as they make new ones together in this life continued in another world.
Holy shit. This is the kind of crap that gets mythologized. The man cooked literally untouchable meat. Like, if this was shinto folklore, he'd be know the chef of morning mist.
FOr how he saved his daughter's life, grasping drifting spirit as if mourning mist with the wisp of a good homecooked...