Two years and tonnes of tears later, my eyes fill up with hot tears every time I remember my father’s last days. Around this time in 2015 my father was rolled into an intensive care unit and subjected to unpardonable torture they called medical treatment until his soul left his body. I still remember the shock on his face immediately after he passed away. Do everyone who dies have that ‘shocked’ face, or was it only people like him who find it impossible to believe people can be subjected to torture, crucified, inside a hospital by doctors who are supposed to provide pain relief.
My eyes refuse to stop tearing up this month, hope I will recover soon, by the end of April, if not by my father’s death anniversary, April 12.
All I want to say to whoever reads this is, when you know that your loved ones are dying, bring them home, hold hands, talk even when they appear not to hear you, wipe their face with soft wet cloth, hug them and repeatedly tell them how much you love them.
I wish I had done these. I was so stupid not to know what to do when it mattered. It will remain the biggest regret of my life.
Dad, I love you and miss you so very much.
SORRY, a million times…