Lying on the same bed in the same hospital room for more than two weeks now, my father is getting worse by the day. In his own decision to refuse the dialysis and despite taking medications and getting consultations daily, his body is no longer cooperating. He is physically disabled and many of his organs are no longer functioning well.
Now, he feels that he is not going to stay for long.
He did not say it through his words, but I can say it from his eyes that he is tired.
But he did utter, “I want to rest now.”
Not sure what he meant about that. Rest for the night or through eternity? But to me, it sounded like he has given up. Hearing that from his mouth, I have also lost hope.
I know for sure that he wants to be cured, but at this point of his health condition there is only little that his mind can do when his body is already failing him. Even the doctors assigned to him declared that anytime now, we should expect the worst.
From then on, I have prepared myself emotionally. When I am not in the hospital and a family member calls me, my heart shudders in fear that it might be the bad news. It is extremely difficult to deal with a slow death of a loved one.
I and my father are not really the best buddies. Ever since I was a child I consider myself a mama’s boy, only reaching to my father for permissions and allowances. My relationship with my father is best symbolized by a belt – he always spanked me when I was a kid for several reasons.
He has a bad record as a husband being known as a womanizer. I scorn him for hurting my mother that way.
But I carry his first name and I have his thick brows. And most importantly, he is my father.
I can only have one of that. None of what he did to me when I was a child makes the fact that he brought me into this world any less.
One night last week, he already told us his last wishes mostly in concern when we will be bereaved.
“Take care of Gab-gab [his 4-year-old granddaughter]. Let her grow up to be a wonderful child,” he struggled to speak with tears in his eyes. “And to Vince [his youngest son], who is still in school.”
It was an emotional moment for all of us, needless to say. As he was saying goodbye, we could not contain our emotions.
After that, my family decided to stop all medications because they would already render pointless. Plus, we are already financially exhausted.
Also since then, although quite disrespectful, the rest of the family had prepared for the burial rites. We had estimated that it will cost us around Php 80,000 to give my father a decent funeral, that is on top of the hospital bill which is now around the same amount.
We are a financially challenged family. It was also a bad decision not to get a funeral plan. So the only way now to survive this crisis is to find money on our own or ask from relatives if they could give some.
According to my older brother, we had already accumulated more or less Php 30,000 from relatives. A really big help to get through this painful episode of our lives.
Now I’m asking my fellow Steemians if you could contribute in any way possible. I have been helped here once, without asking, but this time I will ask.
A simple upvote will already do. I really, really, really need your help this time.
As to what happened to my lost SBD with Poloniex, I still have not retrieved that. That would have made a difference already.
My father will celebrate his 58th birthday on March 12. But I guess, even out of my will, that he will not be alive by then.
