He was
trembling. The thin blanket was embraced by him as if it was life itself. His
blood sugar dropped once more – hypoglycaemia. The teeth chattered as I cajoled
him to eat more chocolate. He bit the chewy bar and continued to shiver.
When a cousin
lifted him from the bed the other day, I saw how wasted his body was. The gray
hair and the unkempt whiskers on his face seemed to add to his overall look –
sick.
I tried to
remember the times when he was young. I could reminisce how detached he was… especially
with those times when he had some drinks. He would sit on the porch for hours and
do nothing. Also, he had money those days.
Things got blurry
when he decided to "follow his heart" with someone disliked by his peers
and family…
But seeing him
old and trembling, I said to myself: all those things are in the past. What is
important is now. If I wallow in distress and bitterness, what would it give
me? I have learned that if I do something for others, I’m actually doing it for
myself. This is a passage of becoming human and functioning like one.
While my father
continued to shake, I refilled his glass of soda. I had lots of things to do.
But this was probably God’s message to me. You see, every time that I would be
out of town, he would often be sent to the hospital. I needed to have more time
with him now.
As he slept on
the old bed, I could see that he seemed to be shrinking. He looked helpless.
That was the time when I saw myself some years from now. I will be old like
him.
And if I choose
not to serve him, I might not have the chance to assure myself that I HAVE
BECOME A BETTER PERSON.
My father passed away two days later... the same day when my mother succumbed to death twenty four years ago.
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