I try not to regret the things in the past.
Either with the things that I have done. Or didn’t do.
However, August broke not only my heart but my whole being.
It was something which was said during the eulogy that changed me.
The only thing is; I do not know what to do with this change.
I’ve tried embracing it, but I felt kinda silly especially when my good intentions are not understood.
And get really frustrated with the lack of response.
Didn’t know it would be this difficult to change an old habit.
Is this why people never change?
“It is sad that we, the family, are finally gathered all together but under this circumstance. And only during his days in the hospital, the children and the grandchildren would hold his hand, hold him, caresses him, to show our love and affection for him. Tell him how much we love him. But it is good that before he left this world, he knows how much he is loved.”
When he was transferred to QE, I make it a point to visit him whenever I can. Unfortunately I would just shake his hand and stood by the bed side. And get out from the ward with the “too many people” excuse. In all honesty, I was scared of the inevitable. I could not accept the fact that he was not the same man I am used to seeing. I didn’t know what to do. How to react. What to say. How do you comfort pain? How do you tell them everything will be fine when you know it won’t?
After two weeks of thinking and worrying, I finally broke down.
I regretted for not coming to my senses earlier.
I also regretted for always taking things for granted.
Like believing I have 20 more years before I have to go through this heartache.
So no more waiting and assuming I have all the time in the world.
I will no longer hesitate and will make more effort to show my affection and appreciation to the people I care and love. No more choosing over sleep than spending time with my families and friends.
It’s not going to be easy, but I will sure damn try.
Anyway, he finally went to a better place at his own time, and definitely after giving a good fight.
That afternoon when we “escorted” him back, I started cry-laughing as we turn into the junction to our kampong. The sun peeked through the gray clouds and it stayed that way until we got to the house. It’s touching because he hated the hospital and even planned his escape. All he wanted to do was to go home.
And finally he did.
Rest in peace Akong.
You are missed and remembered.
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