Seeing your dad die is a curious thing...
Just felt the need to share this openly before turning in...
It was on a March 4th at around 2 or 3am. I was asleep, actually I think all of us were asleep and I remember waking up slowly. One by one to notice that my dad's breaths were getting shorter and the silence in between were getting longer. Wow, all these things come flooding back to that moment. It's like a game of tennis, waiting for the last sound of a ball hitting the racket of a lifetime long rally. I remember the silence between breaths the most. In the momentary respite of ins-and-outs, I prayed that he didn't hurt anymore. And I think at the end, more than grief, I was comforted by that fact. Plus, the last time I talked to him in the conscious state, I got to tell him that I loved him and that he loved me. Something I never heard or felt before. Until that last time...
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home