Friday, May 22, 2009

The oceans were carm that day. It was a day where the sky was bright blue and yet something within her said that the day was not going to be as bright for her. The ambulance drove in and upon a stretcher they carried out her father. No words had he spoken since the evening before. As she had sat in the chapel attending the Sunday mass, her father slipped in to deep sleep. Though his chest would move up and down, up and down, there was no response from him.

The oceans were churning that day, as she knelt in her toilet with tears in her eyes and an unexplainable pain in her heart. Her mother rushed in, washed her face, looked at her and rushed out again. She remained on her knees longing for comfort. But there was no one there.

Telephone calls to the hospital confirmed that her father was ok. He was responding to medication and to the doctor’s attempts to talk to him. Her heart lightened up. The day proceeded. She and her mother spent the day with her father’s sister and her family. Trips to and from the hospital brought good news. Things were ok. It was then night. She laid her head on an unfamiliar pillow, but could not drift to sleep.

It was now the early morn around 1am. The phone rang. Her mother told her that her father was not doing well. Dressed she got into the car. She pasted her face against the window and stared at the darkness outside.

Arriving at the hospital, mixed stories were everywhere; mixed storied which made her mad. She wanted to know the truth. She walked into the ICU. As she stood beside her fathers bed, his chest was moving up and down, up and down. But not by his might but that of the machine which was next to his head. Her world ended. All she could do was lay a tender kiss on his, still yet beautiful forhead.

The oceans where rough that day. She talked out of the ICU. Empty. Lonely. She had lost her father. She had lost her best friend.