It’d become, a luxury, such simple matters, after her father fell ill, translated…
After worked, I’d loved hearing him called out, “My daughter’s home from a hard day’s of work!” “So you won’t have to worry about money, I’m making sure you live off easily!”, I’d called out in return. Actually, how can he, possibly, spend a cent of his own daughter’s hard-earned wages, he’d, carefully, saved my wages up for me. The elderly man and the dog, waiting out by the front door, getting some breeze for me to come home every night, and that line, “you’d worked hard all day long”, because like a secret code of passage, to gain entry into my home, and, before I’d entered in the door, I’d, patted my own father’s face, then, the dog’s head, like it was, a faithful ritual that will, NEVER be altered.
But one day, the man who’d waited for me outside became ill, I’d thought it was, something minor, that he could be released in just a few short days, but, the oncologist gave me a horrible news—it’s liver cancer. He’s already, eighty-five, and, would I need to, torture him through the trials of treatment, to keep him alive, with my love? I couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering, I’d made the hardest decision of my life thus far, turned down the operations, and the invasive treatment measures, and, placed him in the hospice.
I’d shaved his beard, washed his face, brushed his teeth, bathed him, changed his diapers, fed him fruits, puddings, cakes, so long as he has an appetite, I’d, given him anything. He’d been overcome with diabetes for a long time, and, he’d loved the sweets so, and now, I’d, stopped banning him from the sweets, whatever you want, dad, I shall, get it all for you.
The garden upstairs became a place where we’d taken those, long afternoon strolls, the gentle breeze brushed past my hair, and passed by his smiling eyes, and, found a place of rest, on the dimples by his cheeks. The breeze of this year will still be here next year, but, will you?
I’d always started talking to his cancer cells after he’d fallen asleep, “Mr. Cancer Cell, we aren’t killing you, but do not torture my father, whatever my father ate, you shall eat too, and, when he’s asleep, won’t you become dormant too, can you please, just coexist peacefully with my father?” This, was the desperate hope of a daughter, that my father isn’t, suffering much.
I’d placed my hand on my dad’s chest, his steady heartbeat is my lullaby, lying next to him, it’d, brought me back to childhood, and I can still hear him state, “little lazy piggy, time to get up!”, and, my tears stained the pillows, the day had come, and he’s, still, sound asleep.
And so, this, is what this woman felt, as she looked after her father who’d been, diagnosed with cancer, and because he was kind to her in her younger years, that was why she was willing to stay beside him, to take care of him now that he’s elderly, and had been, diagnosed with cancer.