Status: Done! :>
Last Three Days with You
Third Day
Luckily, I found an available priest early that Friday morning. I took him to dad’s room and left them alone in his room. I sat outside the door of the bedroom, staring at it. Sometimes, I feel like when I stare at something, it will actually move. Anyway, I hear a lot of talking inside the room. And most especially, I heard the Sign of the Cross. “In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.” Yeah, that one.
After one hour, the priest went out and I told my dad’s driver to show him out. I quickly went inside the room and I saw my dad staring at the ceiling. He was praying, I can tell. As I got near him, his eyes averted from the ceiling and looked at me. There are tears in his eyes and he looks weak again and his breathings are heavy. I noticed that his nurses are around his Medical Ventilator and some other machines. I feel my eyes moist.
“Thank you, Ally, for calling the priest. I feel…happy inside,” dad said weakly. I can’t say anything. “Where’s my lunch?” Then with that question, I laughed. I thought it was something serious. So I went down again to take his food from the kitchen. I paused on my way down. I feel uneasy inside. I don’t know why, though. I just shrugged it off and went to get the food. Now do you want to know what’s next? Get ready.
I was on the stairs, and I saw the maids panicking and calling and talking. They were calling me. But my nervous ears can’t hear them…at all. I ran upstairs and went to my dad’s room. He was gasping for breath and the nurses are there beside him while doing their job.
“What’s going on?” I asked one of the nurses.
“We don’t know, Ma’am. One moment, he was smiling so angelically, and the next, he was gasping for breath.” I’m crying, shit. I don’t know what to do. I went closer to my dad and held out to hold his hand.
“Dad, be strong. Please, you can’t leave me now.” This time, I cried. Out loud, actually. My nose is dripping. I don’t like it. I feel like a kid.
“M-My time has come, Alison,” my father said in between breaths. I cried some more. I shook my head. NO! Dammit, dad! “I thank you for everything,” he continued.
“Dad, is that why you called a priest? I should’ve disobeyed you!”
“No, I have had enough of you disobeying me,” he heavily said. He grasped for breath again.
“Fine, I will. But I want you to be strong and—”
“Let me go, Ally. I have to go.” He wiped my tears. I quickly nodded.
“I love you, dad. And I’m really sorry. I’m really sorry about everything I did before. I’ll let go, I promise. I’ll do my best with my life. I promise,” I cried and I cried. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t want my dad to feel pain, anyway. So I guess I have to accept. I looked at dad. He’s smiling! He held my hand and his last breath have been made. And he laid there motionless. His grip loosened and eyes moist with tears. I cried quietly.
After a few months, I have moved on and accepted the fact that my dad’s gone. I even have a family of my own. I visit my dad every week. And each visit reminds me of the pain and memories. But I can’t be sad all the time, right? I am happy…for everyone, and most especially for my dad.
After one hour, the priest went out and I told my dad’s driver to show him out. I quickly went inside the room and I saw my dad staring at the ceiling. He was praying, I can tell. As I got near him, his eyes averted from the ceiling and looked at me. There are tears in his eyes and he looks weak again and his breathings are heavy. I noticed that his nurses are around his Medical Ventilator and some other machines. I feel my eyes moist.
“Thank you, Ally, for calling the priest. I feel…happy inside,” dad said weakly. I can’t say anything. “Where’s my lunch?” Then with that question, I laughed. I thought it was something serious. So I went down again to take his food from the kitchen. I paused on my way down. I feel uneasy inside. I don’t know why, though. I just shrugged it off and went to get the food. Now do you want to know what’s next? Get ready.
I was on the stairs, and I saw the maids panicking and calling and talking. They were calling me. But my nervous ears can’t hear them…at all. I ran upstairs and went to my dad’s room. He was gasping for breath and the nurses are there beside him while doing their job.
“What’s going on?” I asked one of the nurses.
“We don’t know, Ma’am. One moment, he was smiling so angelically, and the next, he was gasping for breath.” I’m crying, shit. I don’t know what to do. I went closer to my dad and held out to hold his hand.
“Dad, be strong. Please, you can’t leave me now.” This time, I cried. Out loud, actually. My nose is dripping. I don’t like it. I feel like a kid.
“M-My time has come, Alison,” my father said in between breaths. I cried some more. I shook my head. NO! Dammit, dad! “I thank you for everything,” he continued.
“Dad, is that why you called a priest? I should’ve disobeyed you!”
“No, I have had enough of you disobeying me,” he heavily said. He grasped for breath again.
“Fine, I will. But I want you to be strong and—”
“Let me go, Ally. I have to go.” He wiped my tears. I quickly nodded.
“I love you, dad. And I’m really sorry. I’m really sorry about everything I did before. I’ll let go, I promise. I’ll do my best with my life. I promise,” I cried and I cried. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t want my dad to feel pain, anyway. So I guess I have to accept. I looked at dad. He’s smiling! He held my hand and his last breath have been made. And he laid there motionless. His grip loosened and eyes moist with tears. I cried quietly.
After a few months, I have moved on and accepted the fact that my dad’s gone. I even have a family of my own. I visit my dad every week. And each visit reminds me of the pain and memories. But I can’t be sad all the time, right? I am happy…for everyone, and most especially for my dad.