A year ago, I was anxiously waiting for my dad to recover from a major surgery, a 10 hour surgery. I never imagined what would happen in the months to come. How does one endure a life changing operation, with promises of a long healthy life, only to falter time and time again. The promise of hope, was so short lived. The promise of a better tomorrow, or memories that would never be made..why? All the suffering and fighting, only to find there was no light at the end of the tunnel.
No matter how down we became, and how raw and beat up our emotions were, the hope within always shined until his dying breath. I look back and I can't fathom how I got through those days, but I did, and I continue to do so each and every day. It's not easy, but you do it. It seems unimaginable at times that he really isn't just on vacation somewhere. Will I never hear his voice? But I do her it, in my heart and in my prayers. I know he is with me, guiding me and loving me, and still instilling his strength in me.
The most surreal moment was the deafening silence. I got so used to hearing the endless beeps of the machines, and when it stopped the silence was unbearable. Put the damn machines back on, I felt like screaming. I needed to hear the beeps, the beeps meant that it wasn't real, he was still here, still fighting.
No matter what I saw, and experienced, I was not prepared to say goodbye. I felt cheated, I felt he was cheated, and my mom too...My only comfort is not that he isn't suffering anymore, hell he was a fighter like no other, but rather that he's with my beloved grandparents. I know they are with him now, looking after him.
I always used to say appreciate every day, and it couldn't be more true. Through the tears, I've found my smile again...
