Dying

I stood by side of my father’s bed, in hospital, he was almost dead, and cancer eats his body.

He looked more like skeleton than human, eyes almost closed, maybe he was aware of my presence.  In front of me on another side, stood my cousin, looking on me, we said few words.

Suddenly, I started to cry, this crying was so strong, so real, coming from inside me, that when she hear me she start to cry the same way as I was. I made her cry and probably she thought I am crying because of my father, because he was dying. My father opened his eyes, slowly, looked at me and I looked at him, through the tears, and maybe he thought the same that I cry because of him.

                I was crying because of me, I cried on me as I realized that I let him dying on the bed and didn’t cared about him, didn’t asked him anything, didn’t came to look on him, I cried because of me.

                I knew he will die and I wished him to die, as I saw the death as only one option from his suffering.

                I didn’t cried when he died, I didn’t on his cemetery, my sister was angry on me that I do not cry, that I do not show any emotions, there was not, there was not emotions towards my father, he didn’t suffer anymore, we should celebrate.

Thanks, Juraj