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December 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,10
i can still feel his tight grip before his last breath…it was dec. 9, 2006, 9:00pm…minutes, hours, days, weeks & months before that, there wasn’t a thought in my mind that i could ever let my pops go. 7 months prior to this was the most horrible news that changed my family’s life and mine. my pops was diagnosed with cholangiocarcinoma (rare tumors that can affect one every 100,000)-a cancer of the bile duct which surprised all of us since my pops didn’t drink alcohol, except in social settings where it was appropriate. he stayed away from unhealthful foods and was always conscious of his nutrition. he exercised regularly and would even force me to work out even though he knew i loathed it. when we first received the diagnosis, my mom, a physician, dealt with it like all physicians would. she treated it aggressively and searched for the wisest doctors/colleagues, most effective treatments, most equipped hospitals. she did not stop at all and did everything in her power to stop this awful deterioration.
i dealt with it quite differently. i’ve always been the type to hide beneath a facade. someone who will not show my sadness because i don’t ever want to burden anyone with my problems. i dealt with my pops’ regression the same way. i acted like there wasn’t anything wrong. that he will get better and that everything will be back to normal. after all, that’s what he promised us, “i won’t ever leave you and mom, i promise.” in the 7 months of his struggle, i treated him the same way i would every day. we only had one talk of his ailment and it was brief and nonchalant. we said our thank you’s to each other. i thanked him for being the wonderful pops that he was and for being my best friend. and i asked him to be strong and that everything will be alright in the end. no goodbyes. neither one of us talked about that because i didn’t want it. saying goodbye meant i knew he was leaving or that i knew he would someday not be here. this mentality was something i held on to until i received the worst phone call of my life…”Ri, come to the hospital, the doctors said he has one week to live”…and honestly, that was the only time that reality hit me. i could no longer hold on to his promise. i could no longer hold on to my hopes that he could recover. this whole time, i never gave up. the thought of him not being here anymore was simply unbelievable. no way. we were always together. we always ate lunch together. he always called me at 7:30 in the morning just to bug me. he always dropped by the house without calling. he always washed my car for me coz he knew i wouldn’t do it. he always gave me 50 bucks when i only asked for 5 coz he knew i was broke. he always worried about me like that time he would walk through downtown instead of eating his lunch coz he was sad that i moved out of the house. he was always there for me, period.
and so i held on to that, never wanting to let him go until that very last moment where i felt like i had to. everyone around me was crying, saying ridiculous things like, “go now, we’re ok here. it’s ok for you to go. go in peace” what???? what do you mean??? he can’t go! he’s supposed to stay here with me. you must all be crazy!!! and they kept saying that for hours and hours. and i stayed strong holding on to what i could hold on to and it’s weird because he knew that. until i said it was ok for him to go, he stayed. i know this because i finally realized that i was being selfish. i wanted him to stay because i wanted him here…with me. but he was in pain…excruciating pain. and so i mustered enough courage to say, very softly and without conviction because i was petrified and unsure, “go pops, i love you”…and he did. the very second i said that, he immediately flatlined. and i almost screamed and my heart dropped, wanting to take my words back because i wanted him to stay. please stay. please stay. please stay.
it’s been 3 years. it hasn’t gotten any easier. it gets harder every day because each day that passes, i lose a fragment of each memory we ever had. i lose a speck of realness of that memory. tomorrow marks the 3rd year of his death. tomorrow is when i lock myself in my room, when i pretend the day never existed.
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meangirlmayumi posted this
