He fell ill. It all happened very suddenly. Ambulances were awaited outside our home. Our supposedly home sweet home. Men, in grassy green regimentals came into our home. They were led to where my father lay. He lay still. Very still. It looked; as though he was I could not bring myself to say it.
It appeared though I was very much mistaken. He lay unconscious; hence he breathed very slowly which seemed some- what unnatural. The paramedics checked his pulse in various places, and then questioned my mother about any medication he had taken and they also wanted to know the details about his long-term illness. He was then rushed to hospital.
The day is still clear in my mind. I stood there, in my home, observing the paramedics, at nine years of age, confused, I just stood there, suddenly beginning to realise the seriousness of the situation.
Up until then, I had been enjoying the wonderful years of my life as any child might, that is until I saw my pale looking father. A strange thought entered my mind as it never had before; ‘’ how pleasant the world is, even with it’s fair share of problems, how doleful it would be to leave it all behind to only God knows where.’’
I can clearly recollect the experience, the experience of shock, horror and a strong thrill of grief. At the hospital, my very mixed feelings were exchanged by a sudden urge, a desire- a necessity to see him. I asked my mother in which my father lay.
‘avisha,’’ she whispered. A chill ran down my spine. Her tone was delicate as if she was on the verge of crying. ‘’He is in the ICU’’
‘’Can I go and see him.’’ I pleaded, as I searched her weary face, for clues to how he might be doing. Her face remained blank apart form the worried expression, which was very obvious.
‘’No, he needs to rest’’ was all she said, guiding me to the waiting room. We waited. And waited. And waited. By this time, my brother had joined us. He too, wore the same expression as she had done. Worried.
An emptiness began to grow in the pit of my stomach. It grew and grew. I didn’t know what to feel. Sad? Horrified? Angry? I was very confused. I hated the situation my family was in. losing all faith in God; I began cursing God in my mind. He had a lot to answer for. Why me? Why us? The same thoughts kept running in my mind over and over again. Couldn’t God find someone else? There are millions of people in this world and he could have taken anyone. Anyone.
Hours went by, as we continued to sit in the room in silence. It was an eerie silence. Spooky. As if we were just sitting there, waiting for something bad to happen. The bright orange plastic chairs seemed somewhat out of place in the room, for the room was a pale blue colour and was overall very dull. The silence was broken. The door creaked open. A very tall, well built man walked in. He had white coat on, and he wore spectacles. His dress sense suggested that he was a doctor. I looked up around his neck, but I did not see a stethoscope, so I assumed that I must be mistaken. However, my mother stood up, and waited for the man to speak.
He spoke. ‘’Mrs san,’’ he addressed my mother. He then looked from my brother to me. He paused. Silence, once again filled up the room. My mother nodded as if to give him a sign to continue. He continued. ‘’We tried, but we couldn’t save him.’’ He spoke in one tone. Hard. ‘’He died at nineteen hundred hours. He did not suffer.’’
I did not understand how could anyone be so heartless, so hard. A person had just died, and the doctor just stood there. He did not even so much as look sympathetic. To him, it was just another day’s work. It did not matter to him.
My mum, in shock, she sat down. Slowly, her eyes filled up and the tears ran down her red cheeks. She cried and cried. I wanted to cry, but the tears did not fall. I, shocked and devastated, grieved in silence. The emptiness I had felt in the pit of my stomach began to grow. My life had changed. I would have to learn to live with it. The next day, I knew I would have to learn to manage without him. He was gone forever. No matter how much I wished or prayed, I knew he will never come back. He was gone.
It seemed, that the still had something else to say. I knew that the doctor could not have done anything more to say my father’s life. Deep down, I knew that he had tried his best. But I still resented him. ‘’You may go in to see him, if you wish to,’’ he said before leaving the room.
I have never seen death and I did not know what to expect. My father lay there, very still. He lay there as if he were asleep. A thought entered my mind. My father was asleep. A deep and peaceful sleep, in which he would sleep forever.
Yesterday, he was smiling, talking and chuckling. To think I would never hear him laugh or speak ever again. Never! Now I only have the memories of him smiling and laughing, but those memories will always be with me forever.
Now, at the present age of fourteen, I miss him dearly, but I have my memories. I think about him everyday. I have a lot of good memories and when I think about them, I really appreciate the good times we all had as a family. I know that he is watching over us and I hope he is proud of me. Sometimes, my mind drifts off and I think of where he might be, whether he is in the region of spirits if such a region existed, or maybe he is living another life in another body. It is something that I will never know.
Now, at the present, I’m living a comfortable life, though we don’t have as many luxuries, as my mum is single but occasionally our wishes are fulfilled, but not always, as she believes in discipline and she doesn’t believe in spoiling us as she think that it will lead to greed and immoral behaviour.