I clearly remember the night, two years ago today, June 20, 2015. My mom and I had just finished feeding him, because he wasn't strong enough, and I had just got to my room. As I sat on my bed to have my dinner, I heard the screams!
I ran to his room, and he just sat there motionless, staring straight ahead, at nothing. My Mom and Sister and a Cousin were screaming gathered around, asking him to move, not knowing what was happening. As I held him, and rested his head on my hand, I heard the breathing get slow. He couldn't breathe, and he looked at me, just with his eyes.
I lifted him, called the neighbor for some help, and we just rushed to the hospital. I knew it was already too late, but in such situations, you just do, you don't think. When we reached the hospital, I could feel the heat from his body fade away. His eyes were still open, and there was still a faint heart beat.
They told us he was brain dead, he was gone, there was no way anything could bring him back. Obviously we didn't listen, but we knew the reality. We took him to another hospital, a more respectable one, and even though the doctors knew, they put him on the bed and started giving him oxygen and CPR. A senior doctor came to me and told me he was gone, I told him I know, but just for the sake of it, try.
We saw his heart beat fade away as well, till there was nothing left. I was angry and sad, how could this happen, how did I let it happen, how could he leave us. I went and sat alone in the corner, closed my eyes and just sat there for a while. A few friends had come, I don't know who told them, but there they were. I went out, called his close friends and told them what happened. Then went and consoled my sister. My mom was the bravest and strongest of us all, and my sister and her just sat next to his body.
Two days ago, he was showing signs of improvement. He had undergone a Bypass-surgery, which was a success, his condition was stable in the hospital( In Bangalore, India) where he was for over 2 months. However, towards the last week, he was adamant about coming home. He was really stubborn about it, so we managed to get him home. He was happy, he was talking, he was smiling, his friends came over and he was still cracking jokes.
And two days later, he was gone.
Let's talk about the smile, that I saw in his eyes, before he passed. It hadn't struck me at first, but several months since, it came to me. I had seen the same smile in someone else's eyes, someone who's just as important as my Dad. I saw it in her eyes, true love, real happiness, belonging, care, and zero worry. She loved me very much, and he did too.
And that's when I remembered seeing the same in his eyes. Right before his last breath, his eyes turned towards me, curved ever so slightly, and amidst all the tragedy, I clearly remember seeing a smile. I knew he was happy, he was among the people he loved the most, he was on his bed, he had lived a good and honest life, he was cared for, he was ready, and he probably wanted to tell me it's going to be okay.
